Death Eatin' A Cracker
by misscyn
Summary: Sookie gets a career opportunity she can't refuse.
1. Chapter 1

**6/21/10 Welcome, newcomers, to my little corner of the SVM Universe. I appreciate you being here. I do have one thing to say to any less than honest visitors: Please do not steal my ideas, concepts, etc. I found it slightly amusing at first, and there is such a thing as coincidence. But, seriously, you wouldn't like it if someone did it to you. If you need some ideas, pm me and offer to pay me. I'll be glad to help you, and I work cheap. **

Disclaimer

I do not own any of the characters from the Southern Vampire Series. They all belong to Charlaine Harris and I'm just trying to assuage my addiction by amusing myself with them. This story contains spoilers from all eight books plus the first chapter of Dead and Gone, and the short stories. Eric/Sookie, maybe a new guy, will be some smut but nothing too nasty, I just can't see it. Un beta'd. Constructive criticism welcome! Thanks!

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Chapter 1

It was near midnight New Year's Day and I'd just finished taking down my Christmas tree when I noticed the light flashing on my answering machine. "Who'd call me on New Year's?" I wondered as I pushed the button.

"Hi, Sookie, it's Alcide," My heart leapt a little bit, Alcide has a very manly voice, even if he is a jerk. "Call me tomorrow when you get a chance. I have a business proposition for you."

Oh, great, I thought. Now I'm gonna get dragged back into some Were shit, just when things were getting calmed down. I couldn't help but be disappointed that the call wasn't from Eric, or Quinn, or even Bill, wishing me a happy New Year. Jackass former lovers, I told myself. Tara had been telling me I needed to change my religion, so to speak, maybe meet someone new. I was beginning to think she may be right.

I had met someone, on Christmas to boot, and what a someone it had been! I found Preston the Were in my woods Christmas Eve and he had entertained me and lessened my loneliness for a short time. Although I enjoyed myself immensely, after he left I felt lonelier than before. "It's a new year, Sookie," I reprimanded myself. "You're not gonna live forever, unlike those damn vampires. Quit letting them push you around."

The next day I got up and called Alcide first thing.

"As you know the weres and shifters are coming out of the closet much like the vampires did several years ago," he launched in. " It's going to be rough and we're gonna need your help with the humans. As Pack Master I'd like to put you on salary. You'd either have to quit your job at the bar, or cut down to a few nights a week, because we're gonna need you during the day. It's full-time, with benefits, $60,000 a year. We'd give you a company car, and you'd have your own office in my office building. On paper, you'd work for Herveaux & Sons. But your real job would be as a public relations telepath for the weres and shifters.

We'd try to keep you nine to five. You could drive to Shreveport some days, work from home on others. We will buy you a laptop for use at your house. We need a public relations type person, and you would be it. The advantage would be that you would know what the humans are thinking, and help us foresee the problems before they come about. We really need you, Sookie.

"But Eric and the new King," I said before Alcide cut me off.

"Haven't offered you a permanent position, only pay you by the job, and then, sometimes you don't even get that," he said sharply. "Sorry, Sookie, but I know how you've had to suffer, and how they jerk you around. Someone with your talent, someone who has saved their asses so many times, and you have to scrape by on waitress tips? If you want to help the vamps in your spare time you can, and if we can spare you from the office, when they have something really important, we will lend you out. But you're getting older, Sookie, you can't waitress forever, no one can. It's hard on your body, being on your feet, it's physical labor, and it's crazy for someone with your talent. Please consider."

"Sam" I said weakly.

"Like I said, you could still work for him some at night and on the weekends if you really wanted, Sookie. But your job now is a dead end and you know it. Those vamps take advantage of you having such a menial position that's so easy to miss work and get someone to cover for you."

I told him I would consider it and hung up the phone. Shit shit shit, I have to make a decision. Sixty grand a year! I thought with a jump. And a company car. And it wouldn't be like I was being put up by a boyfriend. taking charity from Eric, or anything like that. I would have a real job, and it would not just be my telepathy. Alcide had really though this out. College classes, public relations, I know what people think, would it really be that hard to figure out what they wanted to hear? Isn't that what a PR person does? I started getting excited at the thought.

And he was right. Although I technically was bonded to Eric, I had no deal with the new regime, other than I was under their protection. And I could still help them out from time to time, they went months without needing me, so what was the big deal?

"This is bullshit,' I said out loud. "I need to eat. I need to pay my bills. This is a stupendous (yeah, yeah, Word of the Day) opportunity. I could learn some real skills, some that use my special ability, but are not dependent on it. I'd be a fool to pass this up."

I walked over to my closet and opened the door, surveying the sorry contents. I thought about all the times the vamps had to buy me clothes. I looked around the room and thought about how old my house was, all the repairs and upgrades it needed. I looked out the window at my old junker of a car sitting in the driveway. I wondered what was going to happen to me when, as Alcide said, my knees went and my energy level just couldn't keep up at the bar anymore.

Did I have to call Eric and ask him permission to take a new job? Really? Even if are bonded, I told myself, he certainly didn't feel the need to ask my permission to do anything. Why should I consult him? I thought defiantly. "I'm sick and tired of feeling like little Orphan Annie," I said out loud. He makes his money anyway he sees fit. Why couldn't I?

That's it, I decided. I called Alcide back and told him I could come to Shreveport this afternoon to work out the details. He sounded real excited. We made a lunch date for 2:00. at Auntie Loretta's, a Cajun joint near the wharf. I got off the phone and looked in the mirror, jumping up and down in spite of myself. It looked like the New Year was starting off just right!

For the meeting I chose a straight black pencil skirt with a cute little black and pink toile twin sweater set I found at Target, plus a pair of classy black pumps and my grandmother's pearl necklace and earrings. I put my hair in a chignon and I looked pretty damn good if I do say so myself. Alcide had given me directions to the wharf and I found the restaurant pretty easy, boy was it hoppin' even at 2 pm. I loved the smell of the river as I got out of the car, and the restaurant's Creole and Cajun cooking also wafted down the sidewalk.

Alcide greeted me from the door as I came in. "Hi, Sookie, you look beautiful as always," he said with his trademark smile. He looked better than he had recently, being a leader apparently agreed with him. His hair was cut short fashionably, and his dark eyes sparked. I'd always though Alcide to be handsome, and all of a sudden I got nervous about working for him. Would our former attraction get in the way of my job?

As if sensing my thoughts Alcide started in right after we were seated. "I don't want you to worry that I have any ulterior motives, Sookie," he said earnestly as we looked over the menu. "The pack really needs you, and I won't do anything to make you uncomfortable. We will have a purely professional relationship, but I hope we can be friends at the same time."

I nodded, relieved. I looked back down at the menu and chose a fried oyster dish served with a cream corned mach shue. Alcide ordered crawfish gumbo and a fried oyster po-boy.

"I'd like you to start Monday," he said. "We need help with the press releases, interviews, things like that. Also there is a Shreveport Chamber of Commerce cocktail party at the Renaissance Hotel this Friday night and I'd love for you to attend."

"A cocktail party this Friday," I said, "I'll have to talk to Sam…"

"If you'd like I'll talk to Sam for you. As a shifter, he knows how important the PR is going to be in the coming months. I'm sure he'll be willing to work with you."

"Thanks Alcide, but I need to talk to Sam myself," I said firmly.

"So does this mean you'll accept?"

I took a deep breath. "Yes, I think it does," I said.

"That's great," Alcide smiled at me. He took out his briefcase and showed me the contracts. Ninety day probation period, during which either party can back out without consequences, and a six-month full time employee contract,

"I know we're going to need you for at least a couple of years if not more," Alcide explained, "but, in case the vamps get all bent out of shape, I thought we'd sign the first contract just for six months, so they wouldn't be too riled when they see you're only tied in for that long at first. Then, when they get used to the idea, we'll sign longer contracts."

I nodded. That sounded pretty smart to me.

Our food arrived and we just chitchatted through the meal. He told me he had a new girlfriend, and I was somehow relieved and disappointed at the same time. "She's a were," he said, as if that explained everything, "Her name is Bethany and I'll think you'll like her.

"Sookie, I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to give you my Dad's company car for the time being. I could lease you a new one, but I'm afraid you're going to go over the mileage allowance driving from Bon Temps so I'm trying to get a better deal."

"Well, that's fine," I said. "I don't mind. "

It's a 2007 BMW sedan. Like I said, it's not new, but the mileage is less than 30,000K and I'll get you something else real soon. We just use it now and then for running errands, but we don't really need it. I'll add you to our insurance and you can use it for your personal use on your days off, I don't mind. "

"That's fine, Alcide, it'll be fine. The salary and the car and everything – it seems like you're doing too much."

Alcide shook his head and laughed. "Sookie, I wish we could do more. I don't think you realize how much you're worth, but it's a hell of a lot more than 60k a year and a two-year old Beamer. Unfortunately, the Pack has a mountain of work to do and we have to watch the funds. But I'll feel better about you taking the job if you take the college courses and training we're offering, that way I'll know we are at least helping you get some education and earn skills you can use somewhere else in the future, where you will be paid what you are worth."

I grew silent. This was a side of Alcide I had never seen before, and I was touched by his thoughtfulness. I had never, in all my dealings with the vampires, noticed anyone who seemed to be looking to my future before. Unfortunately, life and death situations always seemed to push aside the big picture kind of questions.

"Let's celebrate a little, can I buy you a drink?" Alcide asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "The pack will be so happy with me for hiring you, Sookie. What's your poison?"

"It's the middle of the day, Alcide," I hesitated. But what the hell, I'd been so nervous all day, maybe a little drink wouldn't hurt. "How 'bout a champagne cocktail?' Alcide motioned the waitress over and ordered two Veuve Clicquot cocktails.

Just then I felt a pair of eyes boring into me from across the room. I looked up just in time to see Kendall, one of Eric's waitresses at Fangtasia, making her way to the table. Oh no, I groaned inwardly. This can't be good.

"Hi Sookie, haven't seen you in a while," she chirped. Petite, with dark brown hair cut pixie-ish around her face, big brown eyes and a dancer's body, Kendall was by far the prettiest human Fangtasia employed. "Who's your friend?"

"Kendall, this is Alcide. He's the Shreveport Pack Master," I begrudgingly explained. Just then the waitress arrived with our drinks.

"Celebrating something?" Kendall asked as she eyed the champagne flutes, her pencil-thin black eyebrows raised.

Alcide opened his mouth to answer her but I cut in. "Alcide and I haven't seen each other in some time. We're just celebrating renewing our friendship."

As soon as the words left my mouth I realized how stupid they were. I didn't want to Alcide to tell Kendall about me working for him, but what I said could so easily be construed the wrong way. Shit shit shit.

"Oh, really," Kendall said, a smile curving her mouth. "How nice. Hope to see you at Fangtasia soon!" She waved merrily and walked out the door.

"What was that about?' Alcide asked. I shrugged my shoulders and reached for my drink. "I just didn't want her going back to Fangtasia and telling everyone I was working for you just yet."

Alcide looked at me and shook his head. "Eric." He said knowingly.

"Eric." I agreed.

"Well, you're gonna have to tell him sometime," Alcide said with a chuckle. "Go ahead and sign up for those college PR courses as soon as you can., Sookie. You're gonna have to learn how to spin a story quicker than you think."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Alcide walked me to my car and placed a reassuring arm around me for a quick hug.

"Sookie, you're going to be great, I know what a hard worker you are," he said. "And don't worry about the vamps. This is business, and if they'd wanted you, they should have made you an offer first."

"I'll send someone to your house with the car tomorrow," he continued. "You'll need it if you want to drive yourself to the party Friday night. Or I can send someone to pick you up, whatever you prefer."

We talked a little bit more about the job and then I got in my car to drive home. I bit my nails and pulled at my hair until it was out of the chignon and wisping about my face. I couldn't help but feel like I was going to face some very angry dead people sometime in the very near future.

I thought about Alcide's last statements. And he was right, yet again. I hadn't heard from Eric since October. OCTOBER. This is JANUARY. Screw him. The vampires just assumed that I would do whatever they wanted because I either "belonged" to Bill or was "bonded" to Eric. Because I'm human, I didn't deserve any say in their opinions. But the Weres actually got a contract together and made me an offer. Was it my fault that the vampires I knew couldn't get their shit together enough to figure out someone else might make me a better deal? I think not!

Today was Wednesday. I had a lot to take care of if I was going to Shreveport Friday night and starting a new job on Monday. I went home and could hardly get to sleep I was so excited about all the new prospects in my life.

Also, I was somewhat worried that a big bunch of bloodsuckers were going to try to piss all over my brand-new parade. One particularly big bloodsucker, specifically.

"It's been months," I told myself when I was still awake at 1 a m. "MONTHS. He probably won't even care. Obviously he can't handle the memories, and he's trying to distance himself just like any red-blooded human wuss of a man would. He'll probably be grateful I've moved on with my life."

On that note I finally went to sleep. I dreamed of financial stability and feet that didn't hurt at the end of the day. I dreamed of being able to walk into a store when I got off work and not feeling like I reeked of beer and cigarette smoke. I dreamed I was in my beautiful new office listening to the rain hit the windowpane when someone started knocking on my office door. Louder and louder they knocked. Then the whole office shook, like a giant bird had just flown into the building. My eyes flew open. I was awake and it was my bedroom that was shaking like a big bird had flown into my house. A really big bird. A 6'4" 250-pound blond-headed bird with fangs. I looked out the window just in time to see Eric as he began another nosedive descent into the outside wall of my house by my window.

I jerked the window up, leaned out and screamed.

"Eric what in the hell are you doing you're gonna knock my house down!" I was livid.

Eric saw me just in time and stopped short, hovering right in front of my eyes. His face was stone, his eyes cold and hard, his tone of voice frigid.

"Let. Me. In." he ground out between his teeth, fangs fully down.

I complied, all the while grateful in the back of my mind that I had chosen to wear a pretty periwinkle babydoll nightgown tonight instead of my usual ratty tee and sleep shorts. (Subconscious decision? Surely not.)

He came in the window as gracefully as ever, but I soon noticed that he was a mess. His hair was all over his head, and his clothes were sopping wet due to the rainstorm. He was still beautiful, of course, maybe even more so, in the rare imperfection of the moment.

I went to the bathroom and wordlessly retrieved some towels, He took them from me without speaking and began drying off, looking me up and down at the same time.

"Well, lover, what have you been up to?," Eric asked, trying to leer but failing a bit as he was still obviously put out about something. He sat on the chair by my bed that I really need to rename "The Hot Seat" at this point in my life.

"Whatever do you mean," I hedged.

"Well, it's my understanding that you were seen having a late lunch in Shreveport this afternoon with Alcide Herveaux," he tried to say sweetly but his tight lips gave him away.

"So," I replied, very maturely.

"So, it seems you two were eating oysters and drinking champagne to celebrate 'the renewal of your friendship," he snapped, before continuing, "In the middle," here his voice became sharper and he tapped my bedside table as if to make a point, "of the day."

"And this is significant to you because…….."

"Do not toy with me woman," he growled. "You are my bonded and under my protection as ordered by the King of Louisiana and you know full well that I have a responsibility…"

"Where the hell you been," I demanded, my voice more heated than I intended. "Don't give me that shit about being bonded and the king of Louisiana. You've been cutting the bond off from me for months and I haven't seen you since Halloween. Three months may not be any time at all to a vampire who's going to live forever but in the life of a human, it's a long time to go without speaking to someone you supposedly give a damn about."

"I have been busy with the new regime, and I have been avoiding you precisely because I give a damn, as you so eloquently put it. I didn't want to call or come by and put you in any danger from enemies of the new King who might want to hurt you in order to get to him or me."

Eric stood up and strode around the room, still toweling off.

"Just to get here tonight I had towait until Fangtasia closed, then pretend to go to my home, when I slipped off and flew here. Your house may be under watch by unfriendly factions, who, by the way you screamed at me, are now aware that I am here."

"Oh, yeah, my _screaming_ alerted them. It had nothing to do with the fact that you were throwing yourself against my house like a wounded pterodactyl crashing into the side of a mountain," I snipped.

Eric actually rolled his eyes. I'm not kidding.

Old bastard had probably seen a real pterodactyl stuffed and mounted on the walls of one of his relative's caves when he was growing up.

"What am I supposed to do, just sit around and wait for another catastrophe, when you might need me, when it might occur to you that you haven't seen me in a quarter of a year? Alcide offered me a position with the Shreveport Pack and I accepted it. It's a full-time job with benefits. "

If I had told Eric I was moving to Tibet to study with monks he could not have possibly looked more shocked.

"A job," he stated.

"Yes."

"Working for the Shreveport Pack."

"That's correct."

"In what capacity, might I ask?" his voice was becoming frostier every second.

"Officially as their Public Relations Officer, but my 'gift' will also be part of the deal."

Eric gripped the wooden arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

"I absolutely forbid it."

Bad choice of words. Bad, bad choice of words.

"You're not in the position to forbid anything. I've taken the job, and I've signed a six-month employment contract. If the King wanted me, he should have come up with a deal himself. The Pack came to me first and made me a really good offer."

"You signed a contract? Without talking to me? Let me see it. I want to see the contract right now." Eric stated stridently, all the world like a father who thinks his little girl made a bad deal on her first car loan.

I wanted to refuse, and then I realized if I just let him read the contract then I wouldn't have to explain every detail to him.

"It's downstairs," I said begrudgingly. "I pulled my nightgown's matching robe and put on my bedroom slippers, then indicated to Eric that he should follow me.

Once in the kitchen I pulled the contract from under my purse and silently handed it to him.

He sat down at the kitchen able and pored over the pages. I could tell he was reading some paragraphs twice, concentrating very intently. Finally he looked up. I suddenly felt guilty at the sadness and remorse in his eyes.

"It is not a bad deal," he said, his wording becoming more formal. I noticed he was dropping his contractions. "I could have given you more. If I had known you wanted it, if I had thought you would take it, I would have been glad to give you all they are offering….."

"But the King wouldn't have, Eric," I said. "He doesn't think he has to, because I am a human. He thinks he can get me to work for him at his will with no guarantees of anything just by threatening me. If he knows I am under contract to the Weres maybe, just maybe it will keep him from jerking me around as bad as Sophie Anne tried to. I am not an extension of you or Bill and I never was. I am a person in my own right."

Eric continued to regard me solemnly, with that look in his eyes that tugged desperately at the strings of my heart.

"I have been remiss," he said softly. "And I have been knocked out of the saddle by a Were. I did not know you desired an education, I did not know you wanted a formal position. You always seemed happy working for the shifter. I have many holdings; it would not be a problem to top what they have offered in any way you would see fit. You may look at all of my businesses and chose which venue you would like to pursue."

"And it wouldn't be real, Eric. It would be a job you made up for me, and you would only be offering in order to top Alcide, not because you really needed me to fill the position, not because you thought of me as a viable employee with marketable skills before he did. You would just be reacting to what has happened. It wouldn't be a genuine offer and I don't want it that way.

"The Pack needs me, they trust me to do a good job, and they're willing to do all this to make sure I do. They drew up the contract and offered me a way to improve my life, and to improve my future. The King didn't see the need. I have to take this opportunity. I hope you understand."

Eric flashed angry.

"I assure you, my lover, I have never made you an offer that wasn't genuine," he said sharply, all of the former tenderness now gone. "You have put me in a tenuous position with the King. As my bonded he will expect you to provide services for him when needed. The contract with the Weres may make him hesitant, and it may not, but be advised that he will be extremely angry if he doesn't get his way. I do not know how far the Pack will go to protect you from his wrath."

"Eric, Alcide said I could continue to help you and the King as much as my job with the Pack will allow," I said. "He doesn't want any trouble, that's why the contract is just for six months."

Eric rose from the table. He looked wet and tired and somewhat defeated. I hated all those things.

"Be that as it may, the bottom line is that the King and I are now playing second fiddle to the Weres," he spat out. "Not a situation either of us is going to appreciate. You have tied yourself to Alcide. You will be working in his office, in contact with him every day. I don't like it. I don't like it at all.

The more he spoke the angrier he seemed to become.

"I wanted to talk to you about our relationship once things had simmered down with the takeover, but now I hardly see the point. Your allegiances are clear. You've thrown your lot in with the two-natured, Sookie. I hope you don't come to regret it."

And with that, Eric turned and walked out the front door, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I woke up the next day with a sense of purpose. I still had a lot of work to do and I couldn't let Eric's little fit put me off course. Every time I thought about his reaction I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into a funk, and I couldn't afford a funk right now. I decided to shove the argument in a box in my head and push it way back to the back of my mental closet. I needed to get busy.

Even though I was going to go to Shreveport Friday and today was Thursday I decided I wanted to drive to my new job and make sure I knew how to get there. I called Alcide and asked if I could come by just to check it out, and he said okay. I worked the evening shift so I had plenty of time to get to Shreveport, maybe shop for a cocktail party dress, and see the office. I put on a pair of navy dress slacks, a simple blue button-down blouse, and some flats. I set off for Shreveport.

I found the office building easily. Alcide greeted me as soon as I walked in. "Come Sookie, let me introduce you around." I met Trisha, his secretary, a tall blonde about 45, I guessed, and several other members of the Herveaux team. Alcide walked me to my office, and I caught my breath. There wasn't anything special about it, but it was nice and clean and all the furnishings were new. It had a large dark wooden desk, dark green carpet, and a big window just like in my dreams that looked out on the river.

"I figure you'd want to do Monday/Wednesday/Friday in the office, and Tuesday/ Thursday at home to start," Alcide said. "There's a lot of internet work to be done, we want you to keep clippings of all the Were and shifter news that hits the major networks, and the minor ones too for that matter. We've got to keep our finger on public opinion, and when views start to shift in a negative direction, we need you to act fast with press releases and media interviews. How do you feel about talking to reporters?"

"I'll do whatever you want me to, but I'll need to know ahead of time just what information you want me to put out there," I said. "We need to go over some of the questions people are likely to ask and how you want me to answer them."

Alcide nodded. "This cocktail party is going to be quite an important event, it's an opportunity for the business owners to meet each other in a neutral environment, and people will be watching it closely. I'm not expecting you to talk to anyone just yet, just keep your eyes and ears open for any dangerous thoughts or happenings, okay?"

Alcide invited me to lunch with him but I politely declined. I wanted to walk around the garden district along the river and see what kind of restaurants and coffee shops would be near when I started work. He told me the car would be delivered tomorrow instead of today, as he was having it waxed and detailed for me.

I enjoyed the walk as the temperature had risen to nearly 70 degrees by noon. The city of Shreveport had recently completed a port revitalization project and I found the area quite picturesque.

A trendy little vintage shop by the name of "Whimsical Traditions" caught my eye. I went inside and began perusing on my own when an older redheaded lady approached me.

"What can I help you with today, Sugar?" she asked.

"I'm looking for a cocktail dress, something nice for a chamber event tomorrow night."

"Oh, the Were welcome party," she said. "That's going to be quite a thing." She looked me up and down.

Well, I'm not a Were if that's what you're wondering, I'm the new Public Relations officer for the Shreveport Pack," I said, trying to soften the words with a smile. I'm going to have to learn to quit snapping at people if I want to keep my new job. I held out my hand. "Sookie Stackhouse," I introduced myself.

"Pleased to meet you, Sookie," she replied warmly as she shook my hand. "My name's Madelyn. You've got a hell of a job in front of you; I don't envy you it one bit. You'll want to look very nice, tomorrow night, you know, being the public face of the Pack and everything. They'll be media, photographers, that sort of thing." She looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Hold on, I've got something in the back that might just be perfect."

A few minutes later she returned with something in a dry cleaning bag I could tell was special even from a distance.

"It's an Alfred Shaheen," she said in a tone of reverence. "It's called a 'wiggle dress.' All the rage in the 60's. I wore this, one time, to a naval ball more than forty years ago. It's where I met my husband. I'm not sure he would have asked me to dance if I hadn't been wearing it."

"Oh, surely he would have," I laughed.

"Honey, you'll see. This dress is magic," she insisted, holding it up from the bag.

I caught my breath. It was stunning, very unusual, unlike anything I'd ever seen. The fabric was a purple silk that shimmered to shades of green and blue as the light caught it at different angles. A gold filigree stamp print, almost Polynesian in nature, adorned the edge of the bodice and the skirts. The sweetheart neckline dipped low and wrapped over the bodice to form a knot in the center. The skirt was cocktail length, fitted with slits up either side. The most remarkable thing about the dress was a type of train attached to the rear made of the same material that reached about six inches below the skirt. "It's called a peacock tail," Madelyn said. "You drape it over your arm when you dance." The entire dress had a peacock effect, with the silken jewel tones and shimmery gold trim. It was completely lined in a dark green silk, eliminating the need for undergarments. As fitted as it appeared to be, I doubted that much could be worn under it anyway. A wrap made of the same material completed the ensemble.

I hurried to the dressing room, stripped very quickly and shimmied into the dress. I looked in the mirror and let out a deep breath. It was drop-dead gorgeous, something Liz Taylor or Marilyn Monroe would have worn. I don't know who Alfred Shaheen is but I need to send him or his descendants a personal thank-you note. The fabric was cut and sewn in such a manner not only as to flatter a woman with curves, but to damn well make her into an icon. My waist looked smaller, my legs looked longer, my butt looked higher and tighter, than I have even seen any of those parts look before. The fabric hugged my thighs in just the right way and cupped under my rear. What it did for my chest was nothing short of spectacular. Whalebone stays sewn between the layers of silk made my breasts appear to be standing up in a physics-defying movement all of their own accord. Think Jessica Rabbit meets haute couture.

As much as I loved this dress beyond all reason, my heart sank as I realized there was no way I could afford a vintage designer gown of this quality. I slunk out of the dressing room quite dejected.

Madelyn's eyes lit up and her hand went to her mouth. "My dear," she said, "my, my, my. I do believe my dress has found its new owner." She took my hand and twirled me around, clicking her reading glasses open and shut in her excitement.

"How much," I asked hesitantly, afraid to hear the answer.

Madelyn looked me up and down. "For you honey, fifty bucks, "she said. "No way," I said firmly.

"Sookie, I've been holding onto this thing for years looking for someone who could pull it off. If I had a daughter, I would have given it to her. I've let a few people try it on, but I always priced it out of their range when I saw they couldn't do it justice. I could put it on EBay and get $300-$400 for it, but I can't stand the thought of some flat-chested twit with no ass wearing that masterpiece. In short, it's not about the money. This is a personal thing for me. That's your dress. It's just been here waiting for you to walk through the door."

"I don't want to take advantage," I protested.

"You're not. You can't tell by looking at me now, but I used to be a real hot number back in the day," she said. "People said I was a dead-ringer for Rita Hayworth in that gown. And it's all about the ladies," she pointed to my chest. "You can get away with it; don't even try to wear a necklace. The dress would be too busy. Your cleavage and that neckline is all that matters. I sure hope you're gonna see someone special in that number, though. You're gonna throw him for a real loop when you do. The night I wore that dress and met my husband for the first time he was pretty much speechless the entire evening. When he did talk, he stuttered. Finally I told him we were going to have to find something to do that didn't involve talking. And we did," she chuckled, a pensive and far away look in her eyes.

I put up a fight to pay more but Madeline would not listen. "Just promise me you'll let me know how it goes, and you'll continue to shop with me in the future. If anyone asks you where you got the dress, plug my shop if you can. And believe me, they'll ask. You're going to get me a ton of business, missy. "

I had a feeling we were going to become friends. Madelyn directed me to a shoe shop down the street and I splurged on a pair of purple shantung silk pointy-toe sling backs with a three-inch heel. No necklace, she had instructed. I found some dangling amethyst and gold drop earrings in an antique jewelry store a few doors down from the shoe shop that were just perfect. My outfit completed, I walked back to my car and headed for Bon Temps. I had just enough time to get ready for work. Still had to talk to Sam, so I wanted to get there a little early.

I felt a little queasy as I pulled into the parking lot of Merlotte's. It was 4:30, so Sam and Terry were the only people at work yet. I walked into the office and found Sam at his desk, frowning at a liquor invoice. "Hey Sookie," he said without looking up. All the rednecks want to drink Patron but none of them want to pay the price.

"Hey Sam," I said. "I need to talk to you."

"Alcide." he said.

"I told him I wanted to tell you."

"I talked to him last week and he told me what he was thinking about doing. What did you decide?"

"I can't pass it up, Sam. I hope you understand. I'll help out when I can."

"It's fine, Sookie. It's a good chance for you; you don't need to pass it up. And the Pack is in a real vulnerable position right now. People are freaking out. They're beginning to suspect that there's more out there they don't know. You're gonna have your hands full with that job, but I know you can handle it."

"So you're not upset."

"Well, I'm not happy about you going, and you better come see me and have lunch here on the days you're working from home," he smiled. "But I always knew you couldn't work here forever. Hell, who would want to?" He looked a little sad at that last bit.

I felt my eyes tear up.

"I've stayed because of you, you know that," I whispered.

"I know," he said quietly. "I appreciate it." He reached over and squeezed my hand.

I hugged him quick and left the room before I started bawling. I went about the rest of my shift as well as I could. The night picked up and we started getting fairly busy for a Thursday. I had started feeling some better when Pam walked in and shot my mood all to hell.

She sat in my section of course. I steeled myself, warmed a blood, and walked over to the table. "Hello, Sookie," she said with that creepy grin of hers. "I see you've been torturing my master again."

"Do tell," I drawled back.

"Did you enjoy your nooner with the wolf?" she leered.

"Do what," I stumbled.

"Your nooner," she said. "Isn't that what you humans call it when you have sex with your boss at lunch?"

"Why in the world would you think I had sex with Alcide?" I managed to sputter out as I slammed her drink onto the table.

"Come one, you were spotted. Down by the port, with your hair on top of your head, wearing pearls and drinking champagne while you ate oysters with your new boss in the middle of the day. I read the advice columns, I watch the talk shows. I know what all that means."

"Okay, Pam, all I can say is someone as old as you are ought to know by now that you should consider the source," I was really getting worked up. "You night stalkers seem to believe that the day time hours are some kind of wild and crazy free-for-all for us humans. You think we're really living it up while you're dead to the world, don't you?"

"Yes," she stated simply.

"It drives you kind of crazy, doesn't it?" I asked triumphantly. She nodded.

"I hate to be the one to break it to you, but most of us just work during the day. That's right, work, clean the house, do all the menial things you think you're too good for. We're not running around having affairs with our bosses, most of us aren't anyway. We don't have time. We have sex mostly at night, just like you do." I leaned forward and looked her straight in the face, my words dripping with sarcasm. "If you all are lucky, we're having it with you."

She snorted.

Suddenly I had a scary thought.

"You didn't tell Eric that I was having a nooner with Alcide, did you?" I accused.

She shifted in her seat.

"Did you," I pressed.

"I might have mentioned it."

"Well, you'd better go mention that it's not the truth."

"Oh, I will," she countered. "After tomorrow night."

"What's happening tomorrow night?"

"Nothing, I just probably won't get the chance until after then," she said evasively. "If you're not sleeping with Alcide, why are you trying to humiliate us with the Were job, anyway?"

"How's that?," I became somewhat defensive.

"Well, it looks like you found a new job because we weren't looking after our own," she said. "The King thought you were attached to us, and then you go to work for someone else. It makes Eric look bad."

My heart sank.

"Pam, I'm not trying to cause Eric humiliation. I'm trying to spare myself humiliation, and spare him too; at least I thought I was." I could tell by her expression that I needed to continue.

"I'm not ashamed of who I am or where I came from. I'm not ashamed of being poor. But it did seem to bother y'all more than it ever did me. I live in a decrepit old house, I have a crappy car, and a waitress job in a bar. I never seem to have to wardrobe needed to do the things you need me to do. These things didn't bother me until I met vampires. It seems to be more of an issue in your world. I don't want to embarrass Eric or the King. I'm not trying to make you feel bad or anything. It's for me too, it's looking out for my future. I'm taking the job to improve things, not humiliate anyone."

"We didn't know your job paid so poorly. Eric wouldn't have given you money for anything you needed if you had but asked," Pam began to huff.

"Well, did you think I was poor because I thought it was fun to be that way?" I asked, somewhat irritated. "And let me ask you this. You have a house and a car, right?"

She nodded.

"When your car needs tires or your furnace breaks, do you go to Eric and ask him for the money?"

"No," she replied, narrowing her eyes at me.

"Then how do you pay for it?"

"My salary," she clipped.

"Exactly. I want to be self-sufficient, and independent, just like you do, that's all. I want to be an equal, to be respected. It's not that far-fetched of a concept, really, is it?"

Even though Pam pursed her lips, my words seemed to register with her. "I have to go, I have tonight off so I can cover for Eric tomorrow," she said. "And there's a Tyra marathon on Lifetime tonight I want to catch." Unexpectedly she brushed my cheek with her lips as she rose. "See you, Sookie."

I sighed as she walked out. It had been a long, long day.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

As I went to bed that night I allowed myself to think about Eric for just a few minutes. I pulled that box out of my mental closet and brought him up and his last visit out of it. I held the memory of him to me like a blanket and wallowed all over the feelings. I remembered his tired eyes and wet body, I cried at his disconcertingly sad air, and at the thought that my choice had caused him pain. I remembered that Saturday would be the one-year anniversary of the first time we slept together. It seemed like a million years ago. I relived our time together in my mind all over again, and then reluctantly put it all back in the box, softly pushing it to the bottom of my subconscious. At some point I fell asleep, the tears drying on my cheeks.

It occurred to me as I made breakfast the next day that Monday I started a job I had no idea how to do. I called Tulane and began the registration process for some online courses; if I were lucky, I could get in on the spring semester that started in two weeks. I needed to know something about public relations before then, so I got dressed and headed over to the library to see what was available there. I found some material on line, and a few books to check out. I stopped by the tanning bed and nail salon on my way home.

My skin looked a little dry so I slathered it with a night cream. I wanted to do a pretty elaborate hairdo for the party, so I washed and dried my hair, coated it in a heavy conditioner, and covered it with a turban. All the conditioners and moisturizers were really slick so I pulled on an old pair of sweat pants and a ragged sports tank. I then sat down to look over my new books.

Boy, do I have a lot to learn. The reality of my new position started to sink in. But I felt up to the challenge, and confident that I could do this. Hell, I had fought in Were wars, killed a vampire and a shifter, saved Supe lives over and over. I can read minds and I know how people really feel. I can do this, I told myself sternly as my resolve started to sink.

I was so lost in my reading material that I didn't notice the cars pulling into my driveway until someone honked the horn. I looked out the door just as someone hopped out of a silver BMW and barreled up my steps. Without thinking about my appearance I opened the door to see a very attractive man regarding me with a smile.

He had light brown hair, streaked with blond from the sun, about 6' 2", incredible physique, looked to be someone who spent a lot of time outside from his dark tan and developed muscles, tight white t shirt and jeans. He reminded me of a lumberjack for some reason, a lumberjack with the jaw line of Matthew McConahay.

"I'm Lance Herveaux," he said, his golden brown eyes friendly and bright, "Alcide's cousin. You must be Sookie. We've brought you your car," he motioned to another man, one of Alcide's bookkeepers I met yesterday, parked in a red Jeep Cherokee behind him.

"Ooh, let me see," I couldn't contain my excitement as I bounded down the stairs barefoot. "I like it," I said, trying to act nonchalant. Boy did I. The interior was perfect; it looked and smelled brand new. Leather seats, German craftsmanship, damn, I had me a ride. I tried not to drool.

I straightened. "Thank you, Lance," I said.

"You the new PR girl?"

"Yep. Do you work with Alcide?"

"I have been for the last year. My dad was Jackson's half-brother, so I have some stock in the company. I've been taking a hiatus after graduate school since Katrina. The company really needed me with all the extra work."

"Oh really," I said. "What are you studying?"

" I'm pursuing a doctorate in philosophy."

"So you can…"

"Teach. I want to be a professor."

I looked him up and down and smiled in spite of myself.

"The co-eds are going to love that," I drawled. He laughed. "I hope so."

"And what got you into PR," he asked.

"Well, I don't have any background in it," I said kind of nervously. "Alcide seems to think I'll do well anyway. And I've signed up for some online courses through Tulane. I never went to college, so I'm a little concerned."

"Alcide tells me you're incredibly bright, and Supes seem to gravitate to you, so I'm sure you'll be great. He also said you have other valuable talents."

"So what color wolf are you," I blurted out before I could stop myself. He was just too golden to imagine as an old scraggly gray wolf.

He laughed. "I'm kind of an abomination,' he said. "My dad was only half-Were, and my mom was full human, so I'm only a quarter Were. I can't shift."

"Does that bother you?"

"Not really," he said. "I can puff up and get a little bigger, if I want to, kind of like Wolverine right before he changes, but I don't grow fur or animal teeth or anything."

I started to get turned on thinking of him bursting through his shirt like Hugh Jackman. Man, had it been a long time since I'd had sex.

I realized I'd been too nosey. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"Oh, that's okay. I heard you were real easy to talk to," he said with a shrug. "You'll be at the party tonight, do you need a ride?"

"Thanks but I think I'll drive myself. I need to get used to the trip to Shreveport and back."

He nodded. "Well, I'll se you there," he grinned, hopped in the car with the other man and left.

Damn, should I have gone with him? I decided no, this was not a night for pleasure. It was business, and I needed to make Alcide and the Pack look good without a lot of sexual tension. Besides I just didn't know if I was ready for any new men in my life. Not today, I though wistfully, letting old feelings surface again. Not on our anniversary…

Shove it down, put it back in the box, Sookie, I told myself. I went back inside and caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror, oh no, oh oh no. I can't believe that handsome man even offered to drive me to the party. I'd forgotten I had that turban on my head, and the cream caked on my face. I jumped back in the shower to shave my legs and rinsed out my hair. Three o'clock, party started at 6:30 and I had to allow 45 minutes to drive. Time to start getting ready.

Tara came over to help me with my hair. In honor of the dress I wanted a type of sixties do, with it high at the crown, bangs straight and parted on the side, and the back of my hair down, straight and silky, ala Julie Christie in Dr. Zhivago, or that chick in the Austin Powers flic, you know what I mean. Tara worked on it for a while pinning and teasing a bit, then smoothing it all over the top. I applied my makeup, lots of smoky dark shadow and black cat-eyed eyeliner, to complete the retro effect. I lined my lips with a lip plumper pencil Tara insisted I use.

I put moisturizer on my legs, and chose a tiny lacy gold thong as my sole piece of lingerie. It was really the only thing I could wear, with the dress being lined and the built-in stays in the bustier part. I shimmied into the dress, slipped on my shoes and earrings, and turned around to Tara.

"Oh, Sookie, you're going to kill somebody tonight," she said. "You look incredible, words can't describe, where in the world did you get that dress?" It didn't even seem to bother her that I got it somewhere other than her shop.

"Is Eric going to be there?" Tara said. "I'd hate for him to miss you looking like this."

The thought hadn't even occurred to me.

"I doubt it; it's a Were welcome party, and vampire hate Weres." Still I vaguely remember a commemorative plaque from the Shreveport Chamber of Commerce with Eric Northman's name on it hanging on the office wall at Fangtasia. He was obviously a member of the chamber, so he could show up as a political thing. I pushed it out of my mind however. Eric wouldn't be there, Pam would have mentioned it surely.

I grabbed my evening bag and wrap, said my goodbyes and headed out the door. The drive would give me time to get used to the new car, an added bonus. I sank into the seat with a sigh. It was so nice. I didn't realize how crappy my old car was until just now. A few adjustments and I was on my way to Shreveport.

The drive gave me time to think. Many changes had come about in the last week, and I was struggling somewhat to adapt. I thought about my new position and all I would have to learn. Working in a bar can have some bad side effects. I needed to learn to control that crazy Sookie smile, and I needed to stop cussing so much. Since Gran died I had noticed I cussed more and more. This had to end. She wasn't around to correct me.

I found the hotel with no problem, pulled in and parked the car. I checked my makeup and hair, smoothed my dress, and walked into the hotel lobby with as much dignity as I could muster. Right off I saw Alcide and Lance, both decked out in Hugo Boss, standing by the door greeting guests. Alcide's mouth visibly dropped and Lance's eyes flew open wide as I made my way toward them. "Well, Sookie," Lance said when I arrived at his side. "You sure clean up nice." I nodded my head. "You too, Lance."

Lance grinned and eyed me appreciatively. Alcide seemed to recover even more slowly than Lance. "Sookie, you look wonderful," he said, taking my arm and leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. "Come, I want to introduce you to some important members of the Pack that you may not have met yet."

The nightclub had a band that began striking some pretty good tunes. My dance card started filling up quickly. I felt many male eyes on me and some jealous female ones also. I felt beautiful, I felt like somebody, and this night belonged to me. Although I was approached by several different good-looking men who wanted introductions, Lance stuck by my side. I found he was really easy to talk to and had a great sense of humor. We had been talking and dancing for a few minutes when I noticed a slight hush come over the room as a very tall and commanding guest walked in.

I looked up just in time to see my rock star of a vampire ex-lover lean over Kendall, the pretty waitress from Fangtasia, as he removed her wrap and led her to a table. Eric looked amazing as always in a black Armani suit, crisp steel blue shirt, and thin designer tie, his hair tied back in a ponytail. Kendall looked adorable in a tiny black halter dress, very short with a sequined flounced skirt. They were looking at each other and laughing. I turned my head quickly and leaned in Lance's shoulder, which seemed to make him happy. Chill, Sookie, chill, I told myself. Don't do anything stupid, just be cool.

I took a deep breath and regrouped. I needed to think clearly and act rationally. Because right now I had a big fucking problem.

And fucking Eric had a fucking date, that's what fucking Eric had.

We may have to work on the cussing thing at a later date.

"You okay Sook," Lance asked. I guess I had started gripping his shoulders a little too tightly. I relaxed my hands and smiled. "I'm fine," I said. "I could use another drink." Lance promptly walked me off the floor to the table we were sharing with Alcide and Bethany. "I'll get that drink," he said with a wink before disappearing.

I could just sit there and sit at the table and wait for him to make a move. But tonight I just didn't want to wait for him. I braced myself, stood up, and turned toward Eric's table.

Now, most of the time with Eric I feel terribly outgunned in the romance department, or just about any department, for that matter. I knew I had some charms, and was pretty enough, but I felt way out of my league compared to him. He was such a model of male beauty, completely perfect in every way. He had lived so long, seen too much, and had been with many, many women. I felt like a puppy someone tossed into a tsunami most of the time around him, desperately trying to learn how to paddle along and keep up. But tonight, I felt different. The new job, the fabulous dress, and all of the positive attention I had gotten from the men in the room made me more confident. I knew, at this particular moment in time, that at least in the looks department, Eric and I were nearly matched, if only for a little while. Tonight I felt like I could compete in his weight class, so to speak, and I needed to make the most of it.

I slowly made my way across the room to their table. About fifteen feet before I got there Kendall stood up and excused herself. Eric stood also, an unusually chivalrous move for him I noted, and as he turned around and started to sit back down he saw me. I locked my gaze with his and kept making my way forward. If I could freeze-frame a point in time, this moment would be one for the record. He stopped in a half-sitting position, his gaze never leaving me. He looked me up and down at least three times before standing up again. I could have warmed my hands in front of the fire in his eyes. His smile faltered for just a second, and I caught it. I felt completely gratified.

"Hello, Eric," I said as I got close enough. "So nice to see you here."

Not one to lose composure for long, Eric smirked. "Something tells me you're not so glad to see me. But you are looking gorgeous as always, Sookie," he said. "I'm sure Alcide is quite proud." Anger laced those last words.

"I'm not here with Alcide," I snapped. "Good," said Eric, not missing a beat. He held out his hand. "Dance with me." It was not a request.

The band began Genesis' "In The Air Tonight," as we took the floor. Eric pulled me in a little tighter than necessary and immediately buried his face in my hair. I couldn't speak, and thankfully he didn't try to. I found myself suddenly overwhelmed by his touch, the proximity of his body to mine, the music. I realized I had been waiting for this ever since I saw him enter the room. His embrace tightened, and I closed my eyes and breathed his scent. Nothing else seemed to matter; and for a split second, there in his arms, everything was right with the world. I felt the bond, something I hadn't felt in months, pulse with life and longing. Then I realized I had rarely dreaded anything in my whole life the way I dreaded the end of that song.

But it did end. We paused for a minute, reluctantly pulled apart and headed from the floor, hands still intertwined. Just about that time Lance arrived at my side with my gin and tonic.

"Here you are Sookie," Lance said as he handed me my drink. I remembered my manners and dropped Eric's hand. "Lance, this is Eric Northman, owner of Fangtasia," I said. "Eric this is Lance Herveaux, Alcide's cousin." The two men nodded at each other.

"Sookie, Alcide asked me to introduce you to some senior chamber members," Lance said. I excused myself from Eric and followed Lance's lead as we walked away from the table. The whole time I could feel Eric's eyes boring holes into my back. "Boy, that guy seemed pissed," Lance whispered. "He your ex or something like that?"

"Something like that," I muttered non-committedly, kicking back the entire gin and tonic in one swallow. We spoke with some more commerce members before I spied Madelyn from the dress shop standing in a corner all alone. I left Lance's side for a moment to speak with her.

"Hi, it's great to see you," I said, giving her a huge hug.

"Oh, I wouldn't have missed this for the world," she said. "I had tossed the invitation but I dug it out of the trash just so I could see you in that dress." Her eyes warmed as she regarded me. "You look simply stunning, and every man in this room wants you."

I felt my cheeks warm as I laughed. If Claudine ever wanted to give up her job as my fairy godmother, I knew who I would choose in her place.

"Now which one is it going to be, honey?" Madelyn asked, her eyes flickering to Lance. "I've been watching you all night and this one right here is some kind of fine, but that one," she nodded toward Eric, "let me just say that everyone in the room can feel your chemistry. Which one did you wear the dress for, tell me the truth?"

"Which one you think it should be," I asked teasingly.

"Well, it makes more sense that you would go with the breather," she said after contemplating for a moment. "But something tells me your life isn't all about what makes sense. I'd say the smart money would be on the scrumptiously large work of art over there," she said, looking at Eric again just as he and Kendall headed for the dance floor. "Something's familiar about him, I just can't quite place it," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I need another drink," I mumbled. Madelyn smiled understandably and squeezed my arm. "Watch yourself, "she advised, as I turned toward the bar.

"Give me a shot of Cuervo Gold and a slice of lemon," I instructed the bartender. "It's the right thing to do."

I turned around to see Eric and Alcide switch dance partners. Eric leaned down over Bethany, laughing. He was really turning on the charm, I could see from her enthralled expression as he twirled her around the dance floor. Alcide looked like he could chew nails. I noticed the other women, on and off the dance floor, ogling Eric. Even though I knew how hard it was not to stare at him, I had an uncontrollable urge to slap every one of them in the face.

I shot the tequila, bit the lemon and groaned inwardly. It suddenly occurred to me that I may have been drinking too heavily for a work event. After visiting the ladies room and nearly stumbling as I stood up from the toilet, I knew I had screwed up.

'I'm crunk,' I thought. 'Really lit. Higher than a Georgia pine,' the confused swirl of thoughts racking my brain. 'What am I to do? I'm going to work with these people. The newspaper and televisions stations are here taking photos.'

I ran down the options in my mind. I didn't want to ask Lance to take me home, I had driven a company car here for Christ's sake, and I was way too inebriated to drive. I did not want to appear at the party again when I might be slurring or stumbling. I remembered that I had stuck a credit card in my evening bag. I left the bathroom as inconspicuously as possible and made my way over to the front desk. "I need a room," I informed the bored-looking young clerk. "We're all booked up because of the event," she said, twiddling with her eyebrow piercing.

"You gotta have something," I insisted, desperate.

"Wait, I do have the Presidential suite available. Since you're with the chamber, and since it's the only room left, I can give it to you half price," she offered. "Fine," I said, handing her my credit card,. "And could you have room service send up some strawberries and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot?" Hell, just because I was leaving the party didn't mean I had to quit having a good time. I had a new job, I could afford to splurge. And I didn't want to lose my high just yet.

The images of Eric with human women who weren't fangbangers had upset me more than I wanted to admit. In addition, I realized that up to this point Eric had probably been keeping me from seeing him with regular human women, out of consideration for my feelings. Great. I already felt guilty about the job thing, now I felt guilty about all the times he had seen me with other men. Why did he have to come here tonight and torture me with his presence? Damn vampires. Nothing but a bunch of buzz-killing sons-of-bitches, I groused inwardly as I meandered to the elevator and then to my room.

I caught my breath as I opened the door to my accommodations. It was a large suite, with an elegant sitting area and separ ate bedroom. It had been recently remodeled with luxurious furnishings, but the grandest part was a huge covered balcony that encased the entire length of the bedroom and sitting area. It was furnished complete with elegant ceiling fans and two humongous chaise lounges, both the size of queen-sized beds, made of heavy iron and covered with big fluffy white down cushions.

I flung open the double French doors leading onto the balcony and shouted, "Woo hoo," flopping down on the cushions of the nearest chaise. "This is where I'm spending the night."

I dragged all the bed clothes from the king sized bed and the pillows and made up my chaise. Ten minutes later my champagne and strawberries arrived and I started having a really good time. Over the course of the next half hour I did the following things, not necessarily in the following order;

Jumped on the bed until the remaining sheets came loose and the mattresses slid sideways.

Ate fifty bucks worth of mini fridge snacks. This consisted of a Kit Kat bar, a small bag of Cheez-its and an Orange Crush.

Yelled from the balcony at some teenage boys who were urinating on two palm trees near the river walkway down below. Hey, there's no excuse for that kind of behavior.

Ordered Ocean's Thirteen from the pay-per-view menu, and then gave up on watching it when a) I couldn't focus for any length of time on the TV screen and b) couldn't decide which hunk to look at when I could focus.

Continued to drink champagne, unfortunately.

At midnight I decided to fill up the ice bucket. I didn't really need any ice for anything, the champagne came with its own, but when I stay at a hotel, I go get ice, regardless. I had the presence of mind to check my hair and face in the mirror, just in case I saw someone from the party, before I padded down the hall, still in my dress but barefoot, to the ice machine.

I put the bucket under the dispenser and pressed the button. I blame the outrageously loud noise of the machine for not noticing who snuck up on me while I was unaware.

"Happy anniversary, lover," I heard a familiar masculine voice with a start. I looked up to see Eric leaning against the metal siding of the ice machine, looking down at me with warmth and amusement in his twinkling blue eyes. He had removed his coat and tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, the silken golden hairs of his chest showing just a wee bit. He looked more beautiful than any man, dead or alive, had any right to look. "Where's your boyfriend?" His voice hardened a little at this last bit.

I tried to recover as quickly as possible from the shock of seeing him. I poked him in the chest with a clearly non-sober finger. "That's exactly what I've been asking myself for the last three months," I said venomously, before grabbing the bucket and heading (wobbling a little) back to my room.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N - I have received several requests for the meaning of my title. "Death Eatin' A Cracker" as many of you know, is an old southern term used when a person feels or looks very, very bad, as in "After I ate that box of popcorn butter I felt like death eatin' a cracker," or "We went to the hospital to visit her after she gave birth to the sextuplets naturally and she looked like death eatin' a cracker," etc.

Several people have also inquired as to a link for Sookie's dress. Unfortunately, there is none; I once owned said garment, and it was destroyed in a fire about 10 years ago. It now exists only in my memory, although my daughter did salvage the peacock tail and now uses it for a tablecoth. I purchased it from a vintage shop when I was still in college, from a nice red-headed lady who knew more than a thing or two about fashion. Alfred Shaheen was a famous designer back in the 50's to 70's, and a lot of his everyday wear ends up on Ebay, now, but the formal wear, especially the screen-printed silks, are extremely rare. I wore the dress one time, to a very fancy affair at the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, NC, where I rendered my then husband-to-be speechless.

Thanks to everyone for the kind reviews and words of encouragement. And thank you to the writers on this site, for your selflessness in devoting time and energy to help out the insatiable readers. You are much appreciated. PS I need a beta, if anyone wants to volunteer. It's hard to edit your own work. Sorry if I missed anything, I really hate that.

Chapter 5

Eric of course followed. "What exactly did you mean by that last statement?" he asked with that sudden flashing grin. I decided to just ignore him. That's what the vampires do to me, ignore me unless they want something. Two-way street.

I had flipped the little brass thingy at the top of the door so it wasn't locked. He stepped into the suite as I bumped the door open with my foot. His eyes narrowed as he took in the disheveled bed and room service cart. "See the sign?" He pointed at the laminated paper posted to the back of the door. "No pets allowed. You'll have to entertain your furry companion elsewhere," he said, raising that eyebrow I hate/love so much.

"Look there's no one in here, I told you I don't have a date, and so don't you think you have to get back to yours," I snapped as surly as I could manage.

"I don't have a date either," he said smoothly. "Kendall is the daughter of a business associate. Her fiancé is in Afghanistan. I just brought her here to cheer her up a little. She is lonely without her soldier."

"A human business associate?" I asked.

"Yes. My corporate lawyer."

"And you are keeping her company because her fiancé is a soldier. How very altruistic of you."

"I believe in supporting warriors," he said quietly. Something in his tone told me he was telling the truth. He began to walk around the room, observing all the chaos I had created with an air of amusement.

"Don't you need to get back to her, even so, since you did escort her here?" I asked.

"She's already left. Her best friend is the desk clerk who put you in this suite. They went clubbing."

"So that's how you found me." He nodded. I had no reply to that.

"I'm surprised you left the party, you were, what is the modern term, the 'It Girl', I believe." He looked at me questioningly.

"I left because I'm drunk and I don't want to make an ass out of myself in front of my future business associates," I said snottily. "And I've been having fun in this room with my own self. You can hang around if you want, but don't be throwing off my groove."

Eric laughed out loud. "Oh, I will be sure not to do that," he said with a wink. "So you do not mind making an ass out of yourself in front of me."

"Not really, no."

He leaned closer and ran his fingers down my arm. His closeness was more intoxicating than the Veuve. "You are ethereal in that dress. It suites you so well. I've never seen you look more beautiful, except of course, naked and in my arms," he leered at the last part.

"Huh," I puffed eloquently. "I'm staying out here," I said over my shoulder as I moved toward the balcony.

"So who is your Were companion?"

"I suppose you're talking abut Lance. He is not a Were. He is related but only has a little of Alcide's bloodline," I said irritably. "He does not shift, I just met him today, and he didn't have anything to do with me taking the job, so don't blame him." I plopped down on my chaise.

A reptilian expression crossed Eric's features. It almost seemed as if his pupils narrowed, and his face froze stock still. "I blame only Alcide," he said coldly, after a moment. "And Alcide will pay." This last part was quite matter-of-fact, in the same tone as I would say, 'Christmas is on a Thursday this year.' I felt a little forewarning of pending doom.

"It does not please me to see you in the arms of another," Eric continued, leaning upon the rail and looking me straight in the eyes. "I think you felt the same way about seeing me in the company of other females."

I rolled my eyes, as best I could, you know, with everything being kind of fuzzy anyway. It made me kind of dizzy, and I swayed slightly.

"What are we going to do about this," he continued solemnly, looking out across the river, and then looking back at me. "What are we going to do about what happened when I stayed at your house? When are you going to be ready to resolve it?"

Damn it, I just told him not to blow my mood, and what the hell does he do first thing? I went off.

"You want to talk about what happened? Here's what happened. Once upon a time you were a big badass vampire player who got into it with a witch, who then made you lose your memory. You ended up at my house, where you and I hung out, had a really good time, talked a bunch, began to have feelings for one another, and screwed like two tied minks for a while. Then the spell got broken and you turned back into a shit head. The end."

A muscle jumped under the skin by Eric's mouth. He appeared to be flexing his jaw or something.

"So that is how you would like to continue," he said. "Just do nothing, and go on, as if it never happened? Is that why you took this job, to get away from me?" Eric shoved his fists into his pockets and turned away from me once again.

To this day I don't know if the following train of thought was the result of alcohol-induced lucidity or lunacy. The fact remains that a brilliant, idiotic, evil-inspired thought came to my mind. What would happen if I kept on going off on him, just blurted out whatever I was feeling? What the hell could it hurt? How could things be any more screwed up than they already were?

"So now you want to talk about my job, you want to talk about how vamps treat me, fine, 'cause I'll talk, I'll talk my ass off. I can't keep up with you people. I can't maneuver and manipulate at the speed you can, I don't know everything you do. It's not because there's anything wrong with me. It's because I'm human, it's not because I'm an idiot, it's not because I'm any more ignorant than your average 27 year old. Hell, I know things a lot of humans never even learn in their entire lifetime, because I can see all the crazy awful soul-sucking stuff in people's heads. You vamps are a bunch of old coots, that's the problem. You're hundreds of years old. You ought to be smarter than you are. You ought to be so fucking brilliant you can't even carry on a conversation, after all the time you've been walking around. I don't think you've got any right to be so damn superior all the damn time. And yet, you need me. YOU need ME, a silly worthless human not even halfway through my first natural lifetime. And it really chaps your collective ass, doesn't it."

I took a deep breath. I ventured a glance up at Eric, and I'll be damned if even after that speech he wasn't regarding me just exactly as one might regard a small, dull child.

"I never would have taken you for a belligerent drunk, Sookie," he said in a serious tone. His eyes had darkened and his skin even looked paler than before.

"Well, I never would have thought you'd go and pull a Bill on me," I shot back.

I realized quite belatedly that possibly nothing I could have said would have angered Eric more.

"Pull a Bill," he said slowly, softly. His eyes turned steely and you could have frozen ice on his face. "Exactly how did I 'pull a Bill?'"

"You know what happened. After I got hurt in Dallas, all Bill could talk about was how upset and worried he was when I was with Godfrey. I could tell it really bothered him that he cared, that he got that upset. After that, he started slowly pulling away. The Queen's database work was just an excuse, and Lorena's call a convenient opportunity. He had already decided he couldn't handle caring that much, being that close to me.

"And then you go and do the same thing. Get your memories back and disappear. Went and buried yourself in your work when you didn't want to deal with how you felt about me, about us. Blamed it on Felipe and the new regime. Give me a break."

Eric watched me very closely during my tirade. I suddenly felt sick, not physically, but emotionally, with that rock in your stomach, headache, the kind of 'my whole world just started sucking really bad' sick feeling you get when you've screwed up and know it. He was getting angrier and angrier and if I'd had any sense at all I would have shut up halfway through, but instead I kept on flapping my gums like a wide-mouthed frog with a bad case of the hiccups.

Eric drew himself up and towered over me, his rage barely contained.

"I have walked around this earth as long as I have because I know how to survive, little girl. I have avoided you to protect you and you are too stupid to know it."

"Yeah, yeah. Pay phones, Pre-paid cell phones, the freaking U.S. mail. You could have done something, but it was easier to do nothing."

"And these things you mention, would not have worked the same way for you? You are being quite facetious, Sookie, and I am out of patience with it. I tried to talk to you the night of the takeover and you would have none of it. You could have made a move too, my lover. It isn't all on me."

"You're the one who had the goddam epiphany," I was surprised at the venom in my tone. "I had to live with the memories of our time together a lot longer than you did. Ball's way in your court, buddy."

Eric had apparently had just about enough of my shit. "You are not in any shape right now to speak to me; I will leave and try to have this conversation at a time when you are not pickled with alcohol," he said with an air of disdain I didn't care for at all.

He moved toward the door. I followed him through the suite. I desperately did not want him to leave, mad or not. I picked up the plastic ice bucket and hurled it at his head as he reached the door, barely missing him as it crashed against the door frame, plastic and ice cubes showering the entrance. "Go ahead, you big weenie, run away. I'm getting used to it."

Bad choice of words. Bad, bad choice of words.

Eric froze in his steps, and then did that damn vampire thing where he was right in front of my face in a nano second. This time, I knew to be scared. "I'm sorry," I faltered.

"You think me a coward, Sookie, you are even more obtuse than I thought. I am thinking perhaps I should leave you alone for about ten years and come back when you are no longer an infant," he gritted his teeth as he spoke, with admirable control, I might add.

"I shouldn't have thrown the ice," I sad meekly. "I just didn't want you to leave."

"You want me to stay," he stated. I nodded my head. "Then say it."

"I want you to stay. I won't yell at you anymore, or call you names, or throw anything at you. Just please stay," I reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him back to the balcony. He hesitated for a moment, then allowed me to lead. He was still pissed, though, I could tell. I walked us back to the balcony, where I sat on the edge of the chaise, and he remained standing.

"Why are you acting this way?," he asked quietly, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

I tore the wrapper off a twenty-dollar cherry-flavored blow pop and shoved it in my mouth.

"I'm just tired of people giving me a hard time and making me feel bad. I 'm willing to help anyone I can most of the time. And I don't ask for much in return.

"Someone offers me something, I decide to take it, and you all act like I've turned into the devil incarnate." I punctuated in the air with the blow pop, then stuck it back in my mouth.

"What is that thing clacking around in your mouth," he said. "it is obnoxious."

I pulled the blow pop out and looked at it. I realized the candy seam had a ridge right around the middle, that reminded me of something else. Never taking my eyes off him, I ran my tongue slowly around the edge, licking again and again, and again circling at an increasingly frantic pace. I then bent my head and plunged the blow pop into my mouth, and then out, licking the entire time, plunging and circling and licking. I reached over to his crotch with my other hand and rubbed the bulge there, up and down. I did an itsy-bitsy spider move with my fingers right along the length of his zipper. "Fee, Fie, Fo, Fum," I uttered barely above a whisper. I looked up to see the corners of his mouth twitching, in spite of himself. "Here, hold this," I said, shoving the blow pop into his mouth. He caught it between his back teeth as I went back down.

I undid his belt and pants, shoved them to his knees, and reached inside his boxers for what I wanted. I began to suck and lick and rub him just as I had the blow pop. I took his testicles in my left hand and held his member firmly at its base with my right while I plunged it over and over again in my mouth, continuing to massage with my left. I reached directly behind his scrotum with my forefinger and rubbed the firm hump of flesh there. Eric rocked and hummed deep in his throat, faster and faster, caressing my hair and holding the back of my head much more gently than he wanted to, I could tell. Suddenly I heard the candy crack right before it projectiled across the balcony and bounced off a support beam, exploding in a burst of confectionary shards just as Eric gushed down my throat.

We clutched each other for a moment, swaying back and forth, then Eric threw himself down on his knees, still holding me with his left hand, and yanked my dress up with his right. The tiny gold thong sailed through the air and disappeared off the edge of the balcony as he pulled me to the edge of the chaise. Eric then stiffened his tongue and shoved it directly between the hooded membrane above my clit and the nub itself, rubbing the swollen flesh back and forth in a previously inconceivable motion.

I bellowed with all the measure and cadence of a dying water buffalo, right before my body collapsed. Eric caught me, wrapped his left arm around my waist, opened my lower lips with his right, then placed his thumb and forefinger at 12 and 2 o'clock right above his tongue and began rubbing in a counter rhythm, never letting up on his oral assault.

My mind blue-screened then went black as its mother board crashed. No coherent thought or sound followed other than a "unhunhunhahhh" that vibrated from my throat and seemed to go on forever. I started to fall again but Eric held me up, flipped me around, unzipped my dress and threw it on the floor. He then entered me from behind with us both kneeling, his left arm bruisingly braced over my chest and his hand massaging my right breast, his right arm holding my hip steady while he plunged harder and harder.

I reached behind and pulled his head to my neck but he would have none of it. He turned my head quickly and bent my body forward as he and sank his fangs into the soft skin below my shoulder blade. Another blinding orgasm rocked me as his strokes began wilder and more erratic as he fed.

I felt everything he had stiffen even more right as he spasmed. Eric lifted his head and let out a battle cry that would have put Braveheart to shame before pitching forward, me still in his arms, on the chaise cushions. I swear somewhere in the fog my subconscious mind heard bagpipes playing in the far off distance.

We lay like that for a few minutes. He moved first, pulling me up to lean against his chest as he smoothed my hair and fixed the covers around our bodies. We were quiet for a while, just being together.

"This night has been full of surprises," Eric said after a moment.

"You knew we were going to end up like this when you walked through the door," I snorted.

"I wanted us to end up this way when I decided to come to the party. I knew we would when I saw you in that dress," he said with a grin. "I have seen one like it once before, on a strikingly beautiful redhead. It was years ago, at a military affair. She had a wonderful smile and sense of humor.

"I danced with her once before a good-looking petty officer caught her eye. He never left her side, for the rest of the night, and they disappeared together," he smiled ruefully. "I guess it was not meant to be." He picked up the said garment from the floor and laid it gently on the cushions behind him, fingering the swath of material. "This is called a peacock tail, you know."

I caught my breath. This night was full of surprises, alright. "What were you doing at a military affair?"

"I told you. I believe in supporting the warriors. Always have." Eric ran his hands through his hair and leaned back against the cushions.

"You know we're not through talking about you working with the Weres," he stated, quietly but firmly. "There is something I will need you to do with regards to your new position."

I wound a sheet around me and walked over to the balcony. Apparently the chamber affair was wrapping up. I saw Madelyn walking alone in the moonlight down to the parking lot above the waterway. She turned around and looked up at the hotel. I knew she couldn't see me from that distance, but I felt like she was looking right at me.

I turned around and gazed at Eric in all his glory, stretched out on the chaise lounge and waiting for me.

"Maybe we could find something to do that doesn't involve talking," I said.

And we did.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N – Don't worry there will be some action later but right now I'm having fun letting Sookie have fun. Girl needs some joy and whimsy in her life. Thank you to my new beta/editor TxGal, you're the best and sooo super fast!

Chapter 6

Damage Control. Crisis Management.

Commonly used terms in public relations. Appropriate terms for handling my current problem, also known as What The Hell Am I Going To Do About What Happened Last Night.

To recollect; I got wasted and I think I called Eric a shit head, an old coot, and a weenie. I threw a bucket of ice at his head. In addition I unloaded a big bag of random crap, an assortment of things about him and vamps that had just kind of irritated me, all in a drunken fit.

And I'm pretty sure I did something perverted with one of my favorite childhood candies.

I woke up with a pounding headache as well as other sore body parts. I felt like death eatin' a cracker. I put my cell phone on vibrate because I couldn't stand the noise. There's nothing like that feeling of waking up in a hotel, naked, after you've been screwing all night, with no clothes to wear and last nights' alcohol still in your system. Who'd have thunk a couple of years ago that I'd ever have to deal with the walk of shame? Jeez.

Eric had stayed until about 5:30 in the morning, barely leaving in time to get home before dawn; though he said he didn't have far to go so he wasn't worried about it. We'd gone a couple more rounds of sex. The balcony had one of those big outdoor propane heater things so when it got chilly we just cranked it up and kept at it. After things settled down I think we kissed for about an hour, just like two kids making out in high school. It was very, very sweet. Neither one of us wanted to ruin the quiet and reflective mood we fell into after that so we never really discussed anything. I told him I'd stop by the bar on my way home from work Monday.

At one point right in the middle of our last coupling, he stopped above me and balanced his weight on his arms. It took me a second to realize what he was doing, and I looked at him questioningly. My heart almost stopped at the warmth in his blue, blue eyes.

"Shhh, be still," he murmured. I quieted and kept meeting his gaze, letting his blond hair brush ever so slightly against my collarbone. He laced his fingers with mine, brought our hands up on either side of my head, and smiled at me.

"I'm inside you, Sookie," he said, like I didn't know that, hello. But when I looked in his face and saw the seriousness of his expression, I began to breathe deeply and feel just what those words meant.

"Stay inside me," I whispered. He smiled and we both held still for as long as we could, until the emotions and sensations became too much and he began to rock, and so did I, but it was different. We were together, and we gripped hands and we came and there was nothing loud or hard or urgent about it. It was magnificent in its own right and I just wished with all my might that it was easy to do that again. You know it's not, you know it'll never happen just that way again and it makes me want to scream into the pillows because I need that just like that again and again ……..

So, shit, I have to see him in two days and it's going to be super embarrassing. I'd been very aggressive with him for most of the night – some of the things I initiated made my cheeks burn red even the next day – I never would have done it without the alcohol I don't think. I vaguely remember swinging around on him like a monkey on a lion's back. At one point, I actually tackled him, caught him off balance and knocked him to the ground. He laughed in delight – God, I hope it was delight. Shit shit shit.

I had that uneasy feeling you have when you're just not sure you haven't done something just incredibly mortifying. The things I remembered clearly were bad enough.

I had to turn this around. My PR books said my new job would be to take a potentially negative situation and make it right, put a new spin on it. Make accidents look like they were on purpose, turn embarrassments into well-planned jokes. I just had to figure out exactly how I was supposed to do that in this situation.

Right now I had to get out of this hotel. Luckily I remembered a running suit with a sport bra camisole I had thrown in the car when I was at home so I ran down in my party dress and got it. I took a shower and threw it on. Had to go sans underwear, but at least I was clean and covered. I surveyed the room one last time before I left, a little grin on my face, boy we had some fun, anyway. I picked up the guest receipt someone had pushed under the door and frowned. There was a zero balance; Eric had apparently paid for the suite and my champagne on his way out. Damn it, he shouldn't have done that! I had rented that room before I even knew he was coming up. It's like he was always one step ahead of me.

I decided to shop a little in Shreveport before I headed home. I stopped at a strip mall that had a Marshall's and Kohl's and an Old Navy to see if I could pick up any more work wear. I found a few things, and was kind of just strolling along, enjoying the January heat wave, when I passed a Candy Gram store. A devilish thought inspired me.

I stopped in the shop and began perusing the delivery selection. There were a lot of chocolate things, flowers and teddy bears, and such, but I wanted something different.

"I don't want chocolate, do you have other candies?" I asked the middle-aged male clerk.

"Oh yes, we have things beside chocolate," he said. He pointed to a rack along the opposite wall. "You can pick out what you want and we'll customize it for you."

"Oh, okay," I said, I was just like a kid in, well, a candy store. "I want the Fun Dip," I knew exactly what I was going to dip in that. "Then some String Thing, and some Pop Rocks, all flavors." Boy, the possibilities were endless there. "Next put in some Altoid Curiously Strong Peppermints." (Remember Monica Lewinsky, anyone?) "Be sure to top the whole think off with a handful of those." Yep, I pointed to the blow pops.

"Okay, miss. Where do you want this delivered?"

"To Fangtasia. One Eric Northman. Can you deliver it at night?"

"Sure," he said. "This is my shop, I can get my son to deliver it at night. He's a college student, always out and about."

"I want it to go in about 11 pm, that's when things are really hoppin' on a Saturday night," I said.

"Just sign the card, and we'll take care of the rest."

He handed me a blank card. What to say? I couldn't think of anything that didn't sound stupid, so I grabbed a black magic marker out of the cup and signed a big "S". There, at least one time I might actually get the last word, the first word, or something, dammit. I want to play the game, not constantly feel like I'm being played, for a change.

I paid for the Candy Gram and left with a silly grin on my face. There was no way I was ever going to be able to stay one step ahead of that vampire, but at least I could try to surprise him.

I shopped a little more, and then headed back to Bon Temps. It was lunch time already. When I got home there was a grumpy message on my machine from Sam, saying I didn't have to work the rest of the weekend. Well, he's in a snit, but he'll get over it, I told myself. Now I had a whole weekend to study my books.

That's what I thought anyway. Amelia and Octavia pulled in the driveway about thirty minutes later, fresh from a week-long witches' retreat. They started running around unpacking and chitchatting. Octavia began singing Proud Mary at the top of her lungs as she cleaned. Amelia called Tray and talked very loudly about how much she'd missed her swoopie-pooh. A stereo was going in one room, the television blaring in another. I groaned over my books at the kitchen table. How was I going to learn anything? More importantly, how was I going to work from home two days a week, with those two witches around?

I had heard people who work from home can have this problem. Then there's the people who show up at my door, Jason looking for a free meal, Tara, Supes in distress, etc. I really wanted to try to work from home those two days, to lessen the commute and have some time away from people, away from their thoughts. I didn't want to have to drive to Shreveport five days a week.

Where was I going to get some peace? I thought about Jason's house, but the mess would be distracting. No one was at Bill's during the day – but I sure as hell didn't want to be at Bill's, too many memories, plus the thought of him sleeping under the floor would bother me.

I took off on a walk to clear my head. I strolled down to Jason's house, my folks' old place, across my house from the family pond. I looked at the pond and at the house I lived at until I was seven. Then I remembered a place I hadn't thought of in a long, long while. I made my way behind Jason's up the hill into the woods. The path was overgrown some but really not that bad. It took a few minutes, but when I arrived at the clearing, it was exactly as I remembered it.

When Stoney and Hazel Stackhouse, my great-great-great grandparents (although technically, I guess, I have no actual Stackhouse blood, thanks to Niall's son Fintan) moved to Bon Temps in the early 1800's they built a log cabin up in these woods. The farmhouse I live in now wasn't constructed until some years later. Gran said that Stoney was a very skilled carpenter, and the cabin is a testament to that fact. Too far away from the road, the family abandoned it as a residence, but kept it up for purposes of nostalgia for many years.

We used to spend holidays here, and Jason and I made it our playhouse and fort when we were kids during the summer. It had always seemed to me a magical place, and we spent a lot of time here when I was a kid. In her later years, Gran couldn't seem to be able to stand to spend much time here. I always figured that it reminded her too much of my parents. To be perfectly truthful about it, Gran was a little funny about the cabin after they died, so we didn't spend much time there after that.

I always wondered why Gran wouldn't rent it out. Surely someone wouldn't mind the five-minute walk up a hill. My father wired it for electric and my grandfather (or the man I thought for many years was my grandfather) added a bathroom, complete with a claw foot bathtub and toilet with a water closet, in the sixties. It was really a cute place, and I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it in so long.

Moss grew on the ground circling the property, so it wasn't really grown up. I walked up to the door. Eerily, it seemed largely untouched by time, and I realized my grandmother must have been coming up here in secret and keeping up the place. I found the hidden key and unlocked the door, creaking it open.

Time had apparently stood still. There was dust, to be sure, and cobwebs, but nothing like I would have imagined. The cabin was constructed of large logs, and had one big room, with the bathroom added on in the back. The room had a big bed in the middle of it, with a sitting area, sofa and chairs to the side, all in front of a large fireplace with a Buck wood stove insert. The kitchen area, which just consisted of a small sink, stove, and ancient fridge (the kind of Frigidaire with rounded shelves and a pink interior, that's how old it was), with a little table and two dining chairs, was over in one corner.

I got really excited as I viewed the inside of the cabin. This could be my work space, my office, as long as the wireless worked on the laptop Alcide promised me. I could come here on Tuesdays and Thursdays by myself, no roommates, no television, just the laptop and my cell phone as connections to the outside world. Peace and quiet to work in, with no minds or noise around me to distract.

I surveyed the interior and decided that I could spend the day cleaning it. I set to work immediately, and I felt like a child again with a playhouse, it was so much fun. Hauling stuff up from the car was exhausting, but I made many trips to the house for different items. Monday morning I would call and get the water and electricity turned on in my name.

The sofa and chairs had pretty red flowered slipcovers I could take home and wash. The only things I really wanted to replace were the mattresses on the bed, they were old and yellowed from time, and if I ever wanted to sleep up here I wouldn't want to sleep on them. A mattress set was a big investment. But, since Eric had paid for the suite and the champagne, and that bill was over $500, I felt like I could afford it. It's for my office, I told myself self-righteously.

I took a break and drove down to Penland's furniture in Bon Temps, and before I could think twice about it, I charged the nicest Serta pillowtop set I could afford. I then added four huge fluffy down pillows to the bill. Two guys from Penland's followed me back to the cabin and carried those mattresses up the hill. I was so grateful I tipped them $50. I'll eat peanut butter for a month, I told myself as the guilt set in.

The thing is, I've never had a place of my own. I never had a dorm room, or got an apartment. Gran's house was Gran's house, and I never could change things much after she died, out of remembrance for her. But this cabin was different, I felt like I could make it my own.

I made another trip home and surveyed my bedroom. I wanted some more things for the cabin, and I didn't want to spend any more money. I wanted new linens for the bed, and new dishes for the cabinets, vases for flowers and such things to make it homey. Like all southern girls, I had a hope chest of things I had been saving for when I got married or moved out of Gran's house. I walked over to it and opened the lid.

There were hand embroidered bed linens, the thread count so high they slid across my hands like silk. A red-and white wedding ring quilt Gran made for my high school graduation, a blown-glass vase, some special pottery I had purchased at art fairs, a beautiful Belgian lace tablecloth. I had some other special knick knacks and such, hand embroidered towels, things like that. I sat back on my heels. I had been saving these things all these years; and now I was three years from thirty. I imagined that macabre bride in Dickens's Great Expectations, waiting for the groom that never came, and shuddered. On that note I proceeded to empty the chest's contents into the BMW and haul it all up the hill to my cabin.

I felt like Miss Suzy, a lady squirrel in one my my favorite children's books, who crawls down a chimney after she was chased away from her tree home by a band of mean, red squirrels. She finds a doll house in the attic and cleans it up. Sweeping and dusting my woodsy little cabin, I gave a giggle. Then I started thinking about my childhood and I sobered up a bit.

Fact is, I never really had much of one, due to my parents' dying and my gift. The telepathy made me bat-shit crazy about ninety-five percent of the time. It was so hard to juxtapose what came out of people's mouths, versus what I heard from their heads, the gap was so wide sometimes. I stayed utterly confused. To complicate matters, for the longest time I thought everyone could hear what I did. After my parents died, Gran was the only person in the world that cared about me and understood me. As a result I held onto every word out of her mouth like it was carved in stone. So all the old southern rules about how ladies behaved, about sexuality, about how to act around men, I took to heart. Do exactly what Gran says, her rules will keep me safe, I told myself, clinging to all the dogmatic phrases like they were life rafts in a swirling sea.

But I've had to realize lately that even Gran knew those rules were meant to be broken, ala' her long-term extramarital affair with Fintan the fairy, not to mention the cuckolding of her husband with two children resulting from that affair. I took Gran's rules more seriously than she ever did, perhaps even more seriously than she had meant for me to take them. And I think those old-fashioned and outdated rules may be screwing me up. Why is it I struggle so much in day to day living, in the romance department, with my relationships, but in the heat of a life-or-death situation, I think clearly and act quickly?

I became reflective as I cleaned, and came to another conclusion as I washed the windows of the cabin inside and out. I know the basic difference between right and wrong. My initial instincts are strong and usually right, before I start second-guessing them with the forced morality of organized religion and backward thinking.

It might be time for me to start making my own rules.

Amelia and Octavia had become mighty curious about all my activity over the course of the day. It was near nightfall when I decided to bring them to the cabin and show off my handiwork.

They grumbled about the hike up the woodsy path, but stood in awe as they surveyed the cabin and its contents. "Are you moving up here?" Amelia asked, apparently worried that they had finally managed to run me out of my home.

"No, no, no," I said. "I don't want to be alone in the woods all the time. This is my office and retreat, just a little home away from home."

"An office, huh," Octavia huffed. "This isn't no office. This be a love shack."

"I beg your pardon," I drawled sarcastically. Sometimes Octavia really got on my nerves. Amelia snickered.

"A love shack. This is a love shack. That's why you bought a new bed and put all your nice things on it," Octavia pointed at the new mattresses made up with my hope chest linens and quilt.

"Yep. You're planning on shagging the Viking up here," Amelia concurred.

"That's not true…" I started, then abandoned that train of thought. Had I pictured Eric up here, once or twice, while I was cleaning? Maybe, but it wasn't the whole reason, I answered myself defensively. I wanted a quiet space to call my own. Still, I looked at the bed and wondered if all that effort wasn't carried through with him in mind…..

"There's magic here," Octavia said quite unexpectedly, trailing her hands along the walls. Amelia nodded. "What?" I asked, surprised.

"It's good magic, don't worry," Amelia said. "But someone has warded this cabin before. I can feel it." I pondered that briefly, and then pushed it out of my head. Like I said before, this place had always seemed kind of magical to me anyway, so it wasn't really a big surprise. Still, I wondered how it could have happened.

"You all are not to tell anyone where I am when I am here unless it's an absolute emergency," I admonished sternly. "This is my secret hideaway, and I don't want people coming up here and bugging me, especially on my work days." They nodded in agreement.

I looked at my watch. It was nearly seven, four hours until Eric's Candy Gram delivery. I felt a little uneasy, worrying he might take it the wrong way. Then I chided myself. I had spent more than a year waiting for that man to make a solid decision regarding me. My southern belle wait-and-let-him-make-all-the-moves attitude had gotten me exactly nowhere. I locked up the cabin, with one last wistful look around the room before I shut the door. It really looked nice, when the utilities were cut on, it would be spectacular. I congratulated myself on my decision and hard work.

I drove home, where I ate a bowl of chicken noodle soup, took a bath, and fell into the bed, exhausted. I had effectively worked through my hangover but I was so tired. I slept soundly, not even noticing when my cell phone, still on vibrate, began buzzing incessantly starting at approximately 11:15 pm.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N – This chapter is a little shorter than the others because it was twice as long and I had to split it up. Chapter 8 should be up tomorrow. Thank you to my beta TxGal!

Chapter 7

Sunday morning I awoke to find the following messages on my phone:

Pam, barely containing her laughter:

"The look on his face? Priceless. For everything else, there's Mastercard."

Apparently, by the time he called two minutes later Eric had composed himself:

"My lover, I have received a very interesting gift from you," he practically purred. "I was sitting at my booth with Victor and Sandy when a young man delivered to me a basket of what appears to be promises for sexual favors. Call me."

Pam:

"Hee hee hee."

Eric:

"I understand everything in this basket except for the Altoids, dear one. Explain."

Pam:

"One of the fangbangers just went to Costco and brought Eric back a 15-pound bag of gummy bears."

Eric:

"If I didn't have to deal with Victor and Sandy I would come to your house with this basket and make you demonstrate the entire thing in one sitting. Also, Victor and Sandy do not get why you would send a candy delivery to a vampire and now think you are demented."

Pam:

"Hee hee hee."

After that there were several hang-ups. I texted Eric back and told him I would be busy today getting ready for my new job and would see him after work Monday like we planned. I could not afford to see him the night before I started a new position, no way.

I worked at the cabin a little more, doing a complete bathroom and kitchen detail, even down to scrubbing the corners with old toothbrushes dipped in bleach. I wanted everything to be spotless. Then I settled down in the big chair with my books. I really liked this place; it seemed so peaceful and other-worldly, like I had traveled a long way away, not just five minutes up the hill from my house.

Over the course of the day I continued to feather my little nest, running between the cabin and the house with this and that. Of course there were no flowers in the woods in January, but the juniper and rosemary bushes Gran grew outside made delightful bouquets and adornment for the mantle. At lunch I went to my house and made myself a sandwich, when none other that Lance Herveaux pulled up in the driveway.

I walked outside to greet him, and I guess he could tell from my face that it surprised me that he would visit with no notice.

He got out of his truck and walked over to the steps and sat down. "Sorry to show up unannounced. You kind of disappeared the other night," he said by way of explanation. "I was in the area so I though I'd drop in and check on you. I really need to get your cell phone number."

"Oh, that's fine," I said with a smile, admiring his appearance with a sidelong glance. He was dressed in a well-fitting red t-shirt and tight blue jeans with work boots. He looked great and smelled like leather and the outdoors.

"I'd like to show you something," I said. I pulled on a jacket and we took off walking. "Now I'm not asking for free services, but if you wouldn't mind looking at a problem on my property, I'd appreciate it."

"Of course not. We work together now, remember."

"Follow me," I said as I led the way across Jason's and up to the cabin. Lance never even asked where we were going, just strolled along with me. He commented on various natural aspects of the terrain that I was not even aware of as we climbed the hill. "Right there," I said as we arrived at the clearing, pointing to the creek that ran down the hill parallel to my cabin. The water was hardly running at all, just a dribble, and I wanted to know what to do about it. Lance studied the creek and walked up and down beside it for a few minutes, examining the flow pattern.

"We used to love that creek when we were kids, my brother and I," I said. "There were crawdads, years ago, and the water ran clear and cool. It was much wider and deeper back then."

Lance nodded. "You'll just need to clear away the debris and dig out a channel at the top of the stream," he said, then appeared to think for a second. "Got a shovel?"

"No, no, I didn't ask you so you'd do it yourself," I protested, embarrassed.

Lance insisted and I got him an old shovel that I had found tossed under the cabin. He worked for a good thirty minutes digging and clearing and I worked right along side him clearing debris with my hands. It felt oddly comfy, like we had done this before. There wasn't anything weird or awkward about it. Finally we were done.

"This is a sweet little place," Lance said, looking around the little yard and at the cabin as he dusted off his hands. "There's something unusual about it."

"Would you like to come in," I said. I knew I was showing my secret place off to much but I was so proud of my little space. We walked inside and I could tell he was impressed with what I had done. He went to the bathroom to clean up and I got us both some iced tea out of the fridge. I was glad I had managed to stock the kitchen a little.

When he came out of the bathroom we both walked to the sofa and sat down. When I explained that I had just rediscovered the cabin and intended to use it as an office he appeared to be genuinely delighted for me. "What a great idea, you'll have so much peace up here. It's very tranquil. That 's why I'm going to hate it when I go back to school, I do love to be outside so," Lance smiled warmly at me while he balanced the tea glass on his knee.

We talked a little more, strolled some in the woods, then walked back down to his truck. I thanked him again for working in the creek and gave him my cell phone number before he left. I worked a little more then headed back down to the house for the rest of the evening.

Monday morning I got to the office a half-hour early, a little nervous about starting. Alcide was there already, obviously surprised to see me in at 7:30.

He gave me my first assignment, making up a press release and pamphlet for the schools. Apparently there had already been some racist incidents among the kids in the area, from grade school on up. Alcide wanted me to include educational information, maybe with some graphics, just kind of explaining Weres and shifters in a language children could understand. He said the junior and high school material would be much different, and much more difficult, as adolescence is when the two-natured actually begin shifting. I started with the grade-school material, as the children of Weres and shifters were apparently dealing with nasty comments about their parents more than anything else.

I found some desktop publishing software online and downloaded it. I had to teach it to myself, so I got a quick lunch at my desk, then stayed a few minutes after five working on the pamphlets. Eric wouldn't be at Fangtasia until about seven, so to kill time I went by the mall and shopped for a while. I was a little nervous about seeing Eric, if the truth be known. When I got there no one was in Fangtasia that early so I walked right in the front door and headed for the office. I passed Pam at the top of the hallway. She gave me one look and then unexpectedly wrapped her arms around me in a bear hug before walking away and chuckling to herself. What was that about, I wondered.

Eric was at his desk reading paperwork when I walked in. "Sit down," he indicated the chair across from the desk with a slight smile. He didn't look up and I wondered if he was angry about Saturday night. "Tell me about your first day," he said unexpectedly.

Without going into too much detail I explained my first assignment. He watched me while I spoke and nodded, asked a few questions. It felt good to talk to him about my work, without it involving bar stuff.

"I had something interesting happen today," he said, pointing to a large cardboard box in the corner. "UPS delivered this while I was asleep." It had a card attached. "Read it," Eric directed. I opened the card and my heart stopped.

"Heard you had a sweet tooth. Enjoy."

Signed,

Felipe De Castro

"What is it, my dear Sookie?" Eric asked, all sweetness and light.

"It appears to be a case of Jelly Bellies, courtesy of the King," I replied in a mumbling tone.

He sat back in his chair and regarded me through narrowed eyelids.

"Well, well," he said, "Isn't everyone having a little fun at my expense."

I blushed and fumbled with my purse.

"If you're going to yell at me I think I'll go on home. It's been a long day and ….."

He waved his hand.

"I'm not going to yell, I am nothing if not a good sport." Eric had a good sense of humor, but I had never noticed him to be a particularly good sport.

"And about the other night," I continued," Are you good sport about that?"

"Oh my lover," he intoned with a wink, "I think you should get drunk and screw me more often. It loosened your inhibitions as well as your tongue. Your rambunctious behavior was a small price to pay for the rewards I enjoyed," he leered darkly at the last bit. I blushed even harder.

"One thing, however," here his tone became measurably more serious. "Fun and games aside, I would suggest that no matter what the nature of our future relationship, you do not under any circumstance, for any reason, compare my treatment of you to that of Bill Compton's. Is that understood?"

Oh yeah. That.

"Yes," I gulped.

"Good, which brings me to the current subject."

"Which would be?"

"The nature of our liaison, of course," he continued smoothly.

"Yes, I've been thinking about that myself," I said.

"Really?" One eyebrow raised.

"Yes and I have a proposition for you."

"I'm all ears," he said in that extra-deep voice of his that just kills me.

I figured I might as well just blurt it out. "Well, it's obvious that we are a little past the dating stage."

He nodded.

"And neither one of us wants to get serious."

An inclination of his head.

"All things being what they are, I was thinking, maybe we could have you know, a physical relationship, without the emotional baggage of a romantic one," I kind of squeaked this part out.

He looked at me like I'd just asked him to eat more beef.

"You want a physical relationship with me, no strings attached."

"Yes."

"Long term?"

I shrugged. "Well, as long as it lasts."

He rubbed his chin. I could tell he thought I was playing some kind of a trick.

"So we would just be fucking," he stated flatly.

I winced. I know I'm trying to get over my excessive sensibilities, but I just don't care for that term. "It would be a little more than that."

"But we wouldn't be dating, we would not be a traditional couple."

"Well, I just want to keep it casual, you know, it would be you and I, just hanging out and..."

"And..."

"And ..." What term to use? "And….schtupping."

"Schtupping," his lips curled up at the corners, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

"Yes. We'd be hanging out and sleeping together, just taking it as it comes, playing it by ear."

Eric frowned at me again, then got up from his chair and walked to the door, looking out at nothing.

"This is the type of thing I might suggest," he said, then looked at me closely. "But it is not like you to come up with such an arrangement."

I had no response. A tense silence ensued.

"I don't mean to be a smartass, Eric," I said after a few minutes. "But it's really all I can offer right now. If I were you I'd take it." Scary look, he gave me at that. I'd overplayed my hand again.

"I mean, I'd really like for you to agree to this. I think it would be a good thing," I said hurriedly.

"You are very cheeky here lately." This was more of a statement than a question. I didn't feel the need to respond. He continued to regard me through narrowed lids for a few seconds. "I'll take it under consideration," he said finally.

I felt my rage building inside. I mean, the man's been trying to get me in the sack forever, I finally agree to a semi-regular humping schedule, and he has to think about it? It took a great effort to tamp down my response.

"Well if you have to think about it too long, then I will have my answer," I said, attempting to be as smooth as he. I stood up. "It's been a long day, Eric, and we both have some thinking to do. I'll be on my way."

He didn't try to stop me. "Take those jelly things with you," he said. "We have no use for them here."

"Well, neither do I...." I started but then stopped. I went over and read the box. The jelly bellies were individually packaged; I could give them to the kids with the pamphlets, nothing like a little candy to win children over. "I could give them out at the schools," I said, "I'll even out a little blurb on the back of the pamphlet listing Fangtasia as a supporter of the Were Informational Project if you'd like."

He thought about it for a minute. He might hate Weres, but Eric is not a man to pass up a free business plug. Finally he nodded his head, smiling a bit. He didn't say, but I knew he was pleased at my resourcefulness.

I left quickly. Eric carried the box out to my car, and I couldn't help but notice how easily he swung it around with those huge arms. I thought of him swinging me around like that just a couple of nights ago. I noticed he did not try to kiss me goodbye as I thanked him and shut my car door. I looked in the rearview mirror just in time to see him watching me with a furrowed brow as I drove off.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Tuesday I worked at the cabin all day and it was fantastic. The wireless card worked perfectly and I really got a lot done on the pamphlets. Wednesday I went into the office and pretty much finished them up. Alcide seemed impressed at my progress, then immediately handed me a pile of press releases to work on. I had a quick lunch at the deli next door, and then got back to my desk. When I looked up, it was after five.

"Spending the night, Sook," I raised my head again to see Lance in the doorway, looking scrumptious in a light yellow chamois button down shirt and jeans.

"Nah. I was just concentrating," I said.

"Got dinner plans?"

I hesitated.

"It wouldn't be a date, just an after-work bite," he said cocking his head with a smile. "There's a real cute place not too far from here."

I agreed after a minute and we drove in his truck to the diner he talked about, had a muffaleta and a beer each. We had a real nice time. He was the kind of easy going person that it was just pleasant to be around. After we ate he dropped me back off at my car, waited until I got in and started it and then drove off with a wave.

I decided to go up to the cabin when I got home, even though it was dark. The weather station was predicting a break in the January heat wave tonight, with an ice storm blowing in. Ice storms could be dangerous, but since I was working from the cabin tomorrow, I figured I'd go ahead and get settled in before the storm. I took my flashlight up the dark trail. It started to sleet just as I reached the door.

I got a fire started rather quickly and ran myself a hot tub of water. Mm, it felt good, and peaceful, to soak in the tub and listen to the sleet hit the tin roof, making a musical little sound. I could see the fire from the tub. Even though I was alone up in the woods during a storm, I felt so peaceful and safe. I was really getting attached to this place.

I got out of the tub, dried off, and put lotion all over my body. I put on some pretty purple and gray lounging pajamas and the matching grey cashmere robe Tara gave me for Christmas. I had no television, so I sat down with a book and a cup of hot cocoa. I must have dozed off with the lights on. I awoke when the sound of the ice hitting the roof became louder and I knew it was hail by this time. I looked outside and saw little quarter-sized balls of ice bouncing off the ground. It felt so warm and safe inside the cabin; I felt no alarm at the scary weather. My peaceful feelings were interrupted when all of a sudden I heard a loud rumble and crash through the trees, followed by what appeared to be the sound of a great deal of breaking glass outside. I looked out to see a large figure bending an ice-laden oak tree at the edge of the moss circle over to the ground, then letting it snap back and shower ice on the frozen ground.

Someone called my name. Blinking my eyes, I stumbled to the door and without thinking flung it opened. On the edge of the moss, about 30 feet from the door, a huge frozen figure hovered in the air. "Sookie," it shouted again, "Sookie, ask me in." I recognized the voice.

"Eric!" I shouted, more than a little annoyed, "Why can't you come any closer?"

"There's a fae ward surrounding the property," he said, "You have to let me in," his voice was deep and raspy from the cold.

"Okay, okay, Eric, please come in," I stumbled over the words He immediately floated forward and up on the porch. I stepped back and let him into the door.

He was a real sight to behold. Ice covered every square inch of his body, from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. The ice coated the locks of his golden hair individually; it appeared he had a mane of crystal dreadlocks. Frost covered the scruff on his chin and ears. A thin sheet of ice covered everything else. Icicles hung from his sleeves and hands. His lips were blue and his eyes red from the cold. He even had ice in his eyelashes. He looked like a giant frozen albino Bob Marley, but not in a good way.

"Eric, why would you have flown in this weather," I scolded as I began to help him out of his coat.

"Obviously I missed the dopler radar report this evening," he said dryly. "It wasn't even raining when I left Shreveport."

"Well, you are frozen and you have to get out of those clothes," I said. "The cold doesn't bother vampires that much," he said coolly, or, rather, as coolly as he could with chattering teeth. "I am a Viking. I revel in the cold. It will be fine."

"Shut up. I'll go start you a bath. It hurts me to look at you."

Eric began to help me strip his clothes, slowly and stiffly for him. For once he wasn't being obnoxious about it. The icicles were falling out of his hair and making a mess on my heart-of-pine wood floor, but I did not care. I threw some towels down for him to melt on, then walked to the claw foot tub and turned the water on.

"What is this place?" Eric asked looking about him with interest.

"It's my family's old cabin, it hasn't been used in years," I said, pushing him into a chair so I could try to get his wet boots and socks off. "You really need to undress faster so you can warm up. I'm worried abut frostbite," I fussed over him.

I caught my breath as I freed his toes from the confines of the frozen socks. The tips of his toes were dark blue, almost purple.

"If I did get frostbit, it would heal itself in a day or so," he said, looking at me like I was being ridiculous. "It is no big deal."

"But do they hurt," I pressed.

"Yes, they are starting to hurt," he admitted, "but I'll be fine." He had everything off but his pants. "Now get those off while I heat you up a True Blood. How'd you find me?"

"I stopped by your house. Amelia told me."

I started to get mad, but then realized that in Eric's current state, Amelia probably thought this was an emergency. "Why are you here?"

"I came to see you," he stated simply, then dug around in the pockets of his wet jeans. "This is the biggest loss of the evening," he said with a rueful smile, holding up a sopping wet package of Pop Rocks. I laughed in spite of myself. He reminded me of a grimy little boy digging around in his pocket for a muddy frog, only to be disappointed when he found the poor amphibian had managed to escape. "It's okay, I can get more of those," I said over my shoulder as I headed toward the kitchen area.

"Why is this place warded with fae magic?" Eric asked.

"I don't know, I guess it has something to do with one of my fairy relatives," I said. "I'll have to ask Niall next time I see him. Octavia and Amelia and…" I started to say Lance but caught myself, "and other people have come up here and the ward didn't keep them out."

"Well, being a fairy ward, I'm sure it was targeted, at least in part, specifically against vampires," he observed, then looked around. "How long have you been living up here?"

"I don't live here. This is my office on days I work from home on the computer," I said. "I just decided to spend the night tonight because of the storm." He nodded.

The bath was ready. I turned off the faucet and called to Eric from the bathroom.

He stripped off his wet boxers without any ado and climbed in. The remaining ice dreads melted as he dipped his head into the water and he let out a sigh. I tried hard not to look at his crotch, even though I was tempted to see if the cold and ice had affected his privates the same way it did human men. I decided I could not bear to see the gracious plenty diminished in any way and studiously averted my eyes. I picked up a washcloth and proceeded to wash his face, trying to warm it up as much as anything. His nose and lips beginning to return to a normal shade - a normal shade for a vampire, that is.

"It doesn't happen to us," Eric said with his eyes half open, a small smirk on his lips.

"What?"

"Shrinkage. Cold doesn't affect vampires in that manner. See for yourself."

"I wasn't …" How the hell did he know what I was thinking?

"I can tell you are worried about it, lover, you are trying so hard not to look. Go ahead, take a look, it is everything you remember it to be."

"I don't need to look at it," I ground out in as snarky a tone as I could manage. "I have seen it before."

"Yes you have, lover," this in a very condescending tone, the smile on his lips growing larger. "Yes, you have."

I threw the washcloth down in the water and stood up. "Finish your bath yourself, you seem quite recovered," I snapped. I left him and went to the other room to gather some clothes. He stayed a while, but eventually I heard him move out of the tub and I few minutes later the door opened and he walked out with a towel around his waist. I handed him a stack of clothing.

"What is this?" he asked looking down at the clothes.

"Just some things I picked up in Shreveport the other day while I was waiting for Fangtasia to open," I said. "You seem to show up around here cold or wet or half-naked a lot and I never seem to have anything for you to wear."

He shot me a look and set the clothes on the table, then began rifling through them. Thee were a couple pair of silk boxers, the label I knew he liked, some pajama bottoms, socks, and a beautiful dark blue Christian Dior for Men robe I had found at Neiman Marcus. The robe had a hood and long dolman sleeves, was full length, and made of the most luxuriously thick fluffy Egyptian cotton. It was on sale after Christmas, or I never could have afforded it, and I was really proud of myself for finding one in big and tall. It also reminded me of the robe he wore in Rhodes, that last time we bonded, but I didn't want to think about that much.

"Do you not like them," I asked worriedly. "Those are the labels I usually see you wear, and I know Pam does your shopping at Neiman Marcus sometimes," I continued.

He looked at me again, puzzled, and then frowned.

"Did you buy anything for yourself?"

"Sure I did. I've been shopping like a mad woman for office attire all week."

He shook his head impatiently. "There. Did you buy anything for yourself there, in Neiman Marcus?"

"Well, no, that's not where I usually shop."

"Exactly, it's not where you shop, and you've never done anything like this before."

"Well, I couldn't afford it before, Eric," I said before I could stop myself.

"Yes, Pam told me about your conversation at Merlotte's the other night," he looked a little grim. "I don't like thinking that I've treated an employee unfairly, and I don't like feeling guilty."

Now that made me mad. "I'm not your employee, Eric, and I never have been. Can we just get past this, please?"

Eric looked from the pile of clothes to me then back again.

"If I didn't know better, Sookie, I'd think you were trying to make me your bitch," he said, in a light teasing tone, but his lips remained set in a straight line. "You know the last woman who proposed such a relationship to me was Hallow," he continued, "and you see how that turned out."

I sighed. Usually I would have pouted or teared up, but I decided to do neither.

"Look, Eric, I picked these things up so I could make you more comfortable, not less," I walked over and reached for the pile. "I'm sorry if you don't like them or if I crossed a line with you. I'll get rid of them."

He snatched up the clothes and held them to his abdomen.

"No," he said. "I like them very much, I want to keep them," he said, a twinkle in his eyes. "Forgive me. It's been a long time since a woman has looked after me….."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it's been a year since you looked after me, but before that, it had been many years since any woman other than Pam or a servant has shopped for me. My liaisons have not been …of that nature for some time. I had forgotten what it felt like."

I nodded my head. I couldn't think of anything to say, it was not the kind of statement Eric usually made, and he surely didn't apologize very often. I moved toward the sofa.

"Well, after you put them on will you come over here for a moment," I said. "The fire's warm and will be good for you."

He looked at me with a very Eric grin and dropped the towel unceremoniously. I snorted and looked away as he dressed. A minute later I felt him approach the sofa and I looked up to see him dressed in the robe and pajama bottoms. He sat down beside me, and I noticed he had not put on the slippers or socks.

"Oh, your feet," I reached down and pulled them up into my lap. "Why didn't you put on shoes or socks, I'm worried about the color of your toes."

I studied Eric's feet, they looked much better but the toes were still tinged a little blue at the very tops. I immediately held them toward the fire and began massaging them, top to bottom.

"Sookie," he said, "I'm enjoying the massage but you really don't need to worry about me. I'm a vampire. I'll be fine. "

"Sh, it's for the circulation."

He started to argue but then apparently thought better of it. "Okay," he said with a grin.

He lay back on the couch and closed his eyes; I couldn't help but remember washing his feet this time a year ago. I'm sure he was thinking the same thing, but this was different. I really needed to do this, so I kept massaging his feet. He let out a little moan. His feet were beautiful, perfect really, and more attractive than many women's, which I mentioned.

"There you go again, talking like I'm your boy toy," he grunted, but I noticed he didn't stop me.

His feet looked better. I covered them tightly with the sofa throw and put them down in my lap.

He opened his eyes. "Tell me about this place. The style here is not the same as your house."

"Well, that was my grandmother's. This reflects my taste more, I guess."

He nodded. "I like it. It's still what they would call rustic, but the accoutrements," he indicated the pottery and soft furnishings, "give it a modern twist." I preened just a little bit.

It was 10 o'clock. "How long can you stay?" I asked, trying not to act anxious.

"Until about 4:30," he said. "Ice storm should be over by then."

"It'll still be so cold," I said. "You could fly us down to my house and you could get in the hidey hole."

"We can decide that later," he said. We still had several hours to fill before it was time to worry about it.

So you'll never guess what we did.

No, not that.

We hung out. We just talked about random topics. He told me about some of the craziest stuff he'd seen in his life. I told him the funniest things I had ever heard anyone thinking. We laid on the couch and then the bed just talking like two old friends who hadn't caught up in a long, long time. It was the best company, the best evening I'd spent, in longer than I could remember. Around midnight he insisted that we walk around outside and look at the ice forest. I protested but went anyway. We were both in robes and bedroom slippers and I slid all over the place. Finally he just carried me around.

The woods had an eerie beauty, full of that calm after the storm, everything white and crystal and quiet. Not a sound but our voices and footsteps stirred the night. The sky was that super-clear kind you often see in the winter. I showed Eric the creek, and was delighted to find that the water had frozen solid, it was just about three inches deep, but the way it froze was beautiful, like a smooth white path all the way down the hill. Eric and I must have had the same thought at the same time. I saw the devilish glint in his eyes just in time to scream before he picked me up, sat me on the ice and pushed.

"No, Eric, dammit, no," I wailed as I slid down the homemade slide.

He ran to the bottom and picked me up, rushed back to the top, and sat me down again, this time positioning himself behind me with his legs on either side of mine. I screamed bloody murder and he laughed at the top of his lungs. Pretty soon I was laughing too, and we did it again and again, our laughter echoing and tinkling against the ice-laden trees, until my butt felt like a solid block of ice, and I begged him to quit.

We headed for the door of the cabin and Eric took one more reluctant look around the frozen woods. You could tell how much he loved it, how much it reminded him of his homeland.

"Would you like to see it from above, Sookie?" A hopeful gleam lit his eyes.

"It's so cold, Eric," I began.

He grabbed me by the chin and lifted my eyes up to meet his gaze. "This is northern Louisiana. How many ice storms do we have here?"

"Never pass up a chance at joy when it presents itself, Sookie. Not even I will be in this world forever." I had a funny feeling he wasn't talking just about the remnants of the storm. He looked so serious I just nodded. I couldn't deny him this pleasure, even if I desperately wanted to go be by the fire.

He gathered me in his arms and began the ascent. I'm not crazy about takeoffs, be it by jet or vampire, and because of this, or perhaps for another reason, Eric took the opportunity to lay one on me, in the manner that only men who really know how to do so can, and any woman who has ever had such a man lay such a kiss on her, knows exactly what I'm talking about. The way his lips pressed against mine, I knew they would be swollen tomorrow. The way he took me with his tongue, the intent and purpose and confidence of it was all-encompassing and my heart soared as my body flew and it all felt like the same motion, until we were far enough up and he broke off the kiss.

He looked down at me with sparkling eyes, then said "I've got you, Sookie," before flipping me around so quickly I didn't have time to react, to where my back was against his chest, then he locked my legs by wrapping his around them and tilted us until we were horizontal, and I was looking down at the earth, just like someone had strapped me to the underbelly of a plane. It was so scary, but so beautiful at the same time. I clung to his arms and whimpered a bit, then tried to relax as he soothed me, whispering assurances into my hair.

I could see my house, and Jason's, I could see the cabin, I could even see Bill's house, and the lights from all four flickered and reflected off the trees with a yellow glow, while the moon and stars bounced their own silver light against everything else. I began crying from the sheer impact of it all, and felt the strange sensation of my tears falling directly from my eyes into the air and never hitting my cheeks. We only floated a couple of minutes, but it seemed to last much longer. Slowly Eric pulled us up back to a vertical position, and floated us gently to the ground.

I felt that something profound had passed and couldn't speak for a few minutes. We went back inside the cabin, but Eric was oddly quiet, too. I wanted to ask him about my proposition, but I didn't want to disturb our calm. We sat by the fire and warmed up in silence, just enjoying each other's company.

We both got sleepy at the same time, about 2 o'clock. I had to work the next day, but would be working from home, so I could sleep in a little. I offered my hidey hole again, and he reluctantly agreed. I gave him my key and called Amelia to tell her he was coming. She was a night owl and always up this late anyway. "Do you want me to go down with you?" I asked.

"No," he said, "You need to work tomorrow and I don't want you slipping and sliding trying to climb that ice-covered hill. I will stay with you while you sleep for a little while."

So we took off our robes and got under the covers, still in our pajamas, and started to go to sleep, just like that. "I can't believe it's our first night in the love shack, and we spend the whole time freaking talking and cuddling," I mumbled, my back to his chest, as I began to drift away.

Right before I lost consciousness, he whispered, "Love shack? Interesting nickname for your, um, office, my lover. You'll have to demonstrate just exactly what you mean by that on my next visit."


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N – This chapter's not so fluffy but there will be more good stuff down the road. Can't be wine and roses all the time, eh? Thank you for all the kind reviews, it really helps to motivate me. And special thanks to TxGal, for helpin' me out with the grammar and stuff. Enjoy_.

**Chapter 9**

The next day I worked from the cabin all day, but knowing Eric was asleep at my house distracted me mightily. I took several breaks just to go down to the house and piddle around, taking comfort in knowing he was beneath the floor. Silly, I know, but I wanted to do it. I knew he would be getting up around 5:30 so I washed and dried his clothes on my lunch break and had them waiting on my bed for him.

I couldn't decide if I wanted to see him or not before he left. Since I slept late and didn't technically start work until 10 am I needed to work until 7 pm to get eight hours in, so I left Eric a note telling him I had to work late at the cabin. I really didn't expect him to stop in on his way to Fangtasia, yet I was still disappointed when he didn't come by.

Lance called me early in the evening.

"Missed you at the office today," he said. "I was wondering if perhaps you and I could get together this weekend; maybe get dinner or a show."

I hesitated. I liked him, and he had just enough Were blood to make his thoughts a little muddled and not screaming at me. I had to try hard to hear him, so the telepathy thing with him wasn't a problem. That was a relief. But the thing with Eric, I didn't know if I should see anyone, yet he hadn't given me an answer yet.

"Lance, I really like you and I'd like to go out with you," I said honestly, "But there's kind of been someone else in my life – it's not resolved but it's going to be soon – can I get back to you on it in a couple of days?"

A pause at the other end.

"Can I ask you something?" he said.

"Sure."

"Is it a vampire?"

"Yes."

"The one I saw you with at the cocktail party?"

"Yes."

Another pause.

"You're a nice girl, Sookie, and it's none of my business, but it just seems like you could use a little more warmth in your life than a vampire can give you. Just let me know. I'd like to take you out, I really like you, and we get along well." I promised I would let him know soon then got off the phone.

Friday Alcide wanted me to go by some of the area elementary schools with the pamphlets and maybe talk to the principals about setting up a presentation. Schools surrounding the Hot Shot community were reporting the most incidents, so I started there.

I pulled up to West Bayou Elementary with a sense of nostalgia. No matter what happens, schools always seem to stay the same, with the same white halls and smells of lunchroom cooking. I stopped in the office and talked to the principal, Mrs. Bellweather, a nice lady in her mid-fifties. She explained the hazing going on, I gave her the pamphlets and told her I would schedule a time to come back and talk to the kids. We chatted for a few minutes, and I mentioned that Jason had married a girl from Hot Shot. When I turned around to head out the door, I caught her last thought.

"_Seems like a nice girl_. _Wonder if her brother's going to be alive after the full moon_."

I stopped in my tracks and turned back. She smiled brightly. "Is there something else you need?"

I shook my head and forced myself to speak. "No, I'm fine. Just let us know if there are any more incidents, we will help the schools anyway we can." I gave her my maniacal smile and left. I stopped to put a few more pamphlets on the information table by the front door.

"_Big waste of trees when there's not going to be anymore of those creatures around next week." _I whirled around to see the principal's secretary give me a sidelong glance as she chick-clacked her heels down the well-worn wooden floors.

Okay, something's definitely going on with Hot Shot. I thought hard as I walked to my car. I tried to figure out where the most people would be so I could try to hear thoughts and investigate more. I went to the Wal Mart, Target, nothing there. I drove around Shreveport on the Hot Shot side about 20 minutes before I spotted a Hooters. Bingo.

I sat at the bar and ordered a couple of oyster shooters and a beer. Boy, not a good place for a single woman to have lunch, I got a lot of looks. It didn't take long, though, about twenty minutes, before a group of six mostly heavy-set men came in and got a corner table at the bar.

They started thinking and talking, and I hit the mother lode. I was shaking big time by the time I left thirty minutes later, but I had enough information to go to Alcide. I drove like hell all the way back to the office, calling Alcide on my cell phone to tell him to meet me there.

He met me at the door, a concerned expression on his face. I shooed him back into his office. I just wanted to talk to him in private, what I had to say was so scary.

"The Fellowship of the Sun has banded with every hate group in Louisiana, Neo-Nazis, skinheads, even some street gangs," I explained in a rush, my voice breaking. "They've been setting up camps surrounding Hot Shot for the past two weeks, all under the guise of getting ready for whitetail bow-hunting season to open this weekend." Alcide's eyes got wider and his hands gripped my elbows tighter as I talked.

"The full moon starts tomorrow night, and as soon as the sun sets, they'll be moving in from the outskirts. They'll start in the woods, working their way into town. Everyone's going to be in hunting garb, camoflauge, orange vests, the whole nine yards. Except they won't be hunting deer, they'll be hunting the two-natured, and the directive from the top is 'If It Shifts, Shits, or Moves, Shoot It' "

Alcide let go of my elbows and sat down at his desk, running his finger through his hair.

"How do they think they're gonna get away with this?" he asked, and I felt so sorry for him, he seemed so distraught.

"The Louisiana legislature hasn't had time to really draft any laws concerning Weres yet, Alcide," I explained as gently as I could. "If they're supposedly hunting, and the person is shot while they are in animal form…."

"They could possibly avoid murder charges," Alcide said quietly.

"Yes. And the FOTS knows that the lack of governing policies will only act in their favor, so now, while it's still early in the game, is the best time to strike."

"We have to act quickly," Alcide stood and walked to the window and paced back and forth. "We expected something but nothing of this magnitude this soon. I'll call a meeting of everyone I can find tonight at the warehouse to decide a strategy."

"What can I do?"

"Go home and rest, Sookie. I'll call you at 7 am tomorrow morning and tell you what's going on. Be prepared for a long day."

I stopped by Fangtasia on the way home from work to tell Eric about what I had heard. He sat at his desk and stared at his hands while I explained. When I got finished, he continued to keep his eyes lowered. He looked really nice, in a sapphire blue cashmere v-neck sweater and black jeans, his hair tied back the way that I liked it. Not that I was looking.

"Can the pack count on the vamps to help them?" I asked, holding my breath.

"Honestly, Sookie, I don't know," Eric said, rising from the desk and finally meeting my eyes. "Felipe hasn't made his policy known on the issue. I will have to defer to him, but I will find out as soon as possible."

He picked up his cell phone and dialed a number, but obviously got an answering machine. He left Felipe a quick message, saying it was urgent, then looked back at me. He seemed annoyed.

"I knew this job was going to be a problem from the start," he began.

"Not fair, Eric," I cut him off. "I helped the pack before I had this job."

"Yes, but it doesn't help matters does it, and you're going to work for them isn't going to have the King looking any more favorably at this situation. I will help you any way that I can personally, but I cannot guarantee vampire support."

I nodded. I started to get up to leave, then shored up my courage, I needed an answer today, I couldn't put Lance off forever.

"Have you had time to think about my suggestion for our relationship?"

"Yes." He sat back down in his chair and regarded me coolly over steepled fingers.

"And…"

"And I think I'll pass."

Oh hell. Here goes.

"Really?"

"Yes." Apparently he did not feel the need to go on.

"Care to elaborate?"

"I find the prospect distasteful, and quite frankly, beneath you to suggest it," he clipped.

I felt my temperature start to rise. Did vampires take the concept of a double standard and somehow make it radioactive? So it's fine for him to fuck and feed from hypnotized whores, but when I suggest a lighthearted, casual relationship, completely on the up and up, it's in poor taste? Okay. Whatever.

I swallowed. I had prepared myself for this possibility; I needed to keep my head clear. Stay cool, Sookie, stick to the script.

"I thought I had come up with something pretty practical, at least I tried to," I fought to keep my voice level. Now for the million-dollar question. I forged ahead.

"Do you have a better idea?"

_('Will you walk into my parlour?' said the spider to the fly…)_

He turned his head away from me. I tried not to think about how heartbreakingly gorgeous he was, even in silhouette.

"No."

Well, I had to know it wouldn't be that easy. I'd just hoped he would rise to the bait. I took another big breath.

"Allrighty then, if that's what you want. I guess we'll remain business associates, and there is the bond to consider."

No answer. Silence seemed to be his weapon of choice. God, it felt like we were breaking up, I hated this, I just wanted to leave. Finally he spoke.

"Does not really matter what I want, it is all that is practical in this situation. And with you working for the Weres, maybe it is the best for the long run."

Jesus, what a butthead. I knew in my heart he had to be at least somewhat full of shit but it hurt to hear him say it anyway.

"Again, don't try to blame it on my job, buddy. That's low, even for you." He grunted, but surprisingly let me get away with that comment.

"All right. Then I guess I'll be seeing you around," I stood up and turned around, my hand on the door. "Just to make it clear, we're not involved, so we're free to see other people, right?"

He glared at me from under his brow.

"Yes," he hissed, and a more dangerous-looking Eric I have rarely seen.

I guess I had my answer for Lance. I hurried out, trying not to cry until I got in the car. Fucking bastard.

I went home to commiserate with my roomies. We all sat at the kitchen table while I unloaded the whole Were war thing. Amelia called Tray, but he was already in the meeting with Alcide and the rest of the pack. Lastly I told them what had transpired with Eric. I was so tired and over-wrought by that time I was hardly coherent.

"Well, that was dumb," Octavia said.

"Hey, she had a right, don't call her dumb, she's upset enough already, and since when were you such an expert on men," Amelia shot back.

"Well, I know enough about men not to back one into the corner and make him answer a question when I really don't want to know the answer," Octavia replied.

One day I am going to haul off and knock the absolute piss out of Octavia. Just you wait and see.

Amelia opened a bottle of Two Buck Chuck and poured everyone a glass. We sat around the table and stared at each other. After a few minutes of rumination I spoke up.

"It all started with Highlights magazine," I said. I was getting silly with fatigue and the wine wasn't helping, but I really felt like I had hit on something with this train of thought.

"Beg pardon?" Amelia seemed confused by the out-of-nowhere remark.

"My fascination with bad boys. You could have seen it then, when I was seven, eight years old. You know, when you were a little kid, and you went to the doctor, he always had that Bible Story book and Highlights magazine, and some kid had always colored all over the Bible book, so you only had Highlights to read.

"That's when I should have known. Goofus and Gallant were my favorite cartoons."

"I liked the Timbertoes," Octavia said. I scowled at her before continuing.

"Goofus was the bad one, always screwing up everything he tried, never doing the right thing. Gallant did everything perfect, just like he should; his homework, his manners. And I remember thinking even then, as a little kid, that Goofus seemed a whole lot more interesting, and Gallant was pretty much a big douche bag."

"So you're saying Eric is Goofus?" Amelia asked incredulously, "He seems pretty 'gallant' to me, at least most of the time." Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "Are you calling Eric a douche bag?"

"No, I'm just saying…" I searched for the right words. "I'm just saying I don't know what's good for me, and I never did," I finished lamely.

"I think you know exactly what's good for you," Amelia said. "For some reason, you can't get past the details."

"I don't know why y'all are making it so hard. You want to be with him, be with him. What's the big deal," Octavia had to throw in her two cents. "Now you gonna start all over with a new man, while you're still mooning over the old one? Ain't gonna work, never did, never will."

Discretion being the better part of valor, I kept my mouth shut.

"I know you want to figure out your love life and everything, but don't you think we've got bigger fish to fry, what with the Were genocide thing going down this weekend," Amelia said dryly. I had to forgive her sarcasm; I know she was worried about Tray.

I did need to get my head on straight. The possibility of Jason being a target bothered me something awful. I just hadn't adjusted to thinking of him as a Were yet, I wasn't really comfortable with it. My friend Calvin Norris, and Jason's wife Crystal, and all the other innocent folks out there were all in terrible danger.

Seven o'clock was going to come awful early in the morning. I had to be ready to do whatever needed to be done. I decided to stay the night at the house with Amelia and Octavia. I needed people around me tonight.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N – Kind of a short chapter just to get something out for the weekend, next one will be longer and up probably Tuesday or Wednesday. Have a great weekend!_

**Chapter 10**

I went to bed and slept soundly until about eleven when I awoke to sense a presence other than my own. I looked across the room and made out the slight glow of a female vampire form.

"Well, hello Pam," I said groggily. "I'd like to get some sleep since I'm going to war tomorrow, do you mind?"

Pam rose and crossed over to the bed, where she sat down on the foot.

"Yes, about that," she said, smoothing out the covers in an uncharacteristically maternal motion. "What are you playing at now, Sookie?"

Oh God, I so don't have time for this.

"Just say what you want Pam, I need to sleep."

"Well, my master apparently didn't have the time or inclination to explain some things to you this evening, so he asked me to come by and inform you of Felipe's position before tomorrow.

"Felipe is not happy with the whole Reveal situation, Sookie. He thinks it was poorly planned out, not nearly as well as the vampires did it a couple of years ago, and that the two-natured have basically asked for this trouble.

"Also, as Eric suggested might happen, Felipe is angry at Alcide for stealing you away. In addition, this battle will involve a great deal of human involvement, which could be highly detrimental to our cause, and as a result Felipe sees no reason to get involved at this point in time."

I sat up in bed and brushed the hair out of my face. "Pam, I don't know much about war mongering, but I do think 'divide and conquer' applies here. I would think sticking together would be a wise thing for Supes to do."

"This is Felipe's stand, not ours, Sookie." I nodded my head.

"Another thing I'd like to mention," Pam stroked my foot through the quilt, then abruptly pinched my big toe hard. I yelped.

"Eric was very happy when he came home last night after spending time with you, only to have that mood ruined when he learned you were with another man only hours before, a man with whom you are currently involved."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Alcide called Eric right before you arrived tonight and during the course of the conversation mentioned that you are dating Lance Herveaux; that in fact, you had dinner with him night before last, the night Eric stayed in your cabin. Is this correct?"

Oh. That might explain the shitty humor Eric was in when I got to Fangtasia. Freaking Alcide, I thought darkly, still up to his old tricks, and now he's my boss. He and I were going to have to sit down and have a little chat.

"Lance and I grabbed a sandwich after work, it wasn't a date. I work with him."

"So you aren't dating him."

"Well, he has asked me out now, but at that point in time, we were not dating. However, since Eric has informed me he wants nothing to do with me romantically, I see nothing standing in my way of going out with anyone."

Pam huffed and crossed her arms, shooting me a dirty look.

"Look Pam, I don't know how much Eric has told you, but let's just say I offered him an arrangement, and he turned it down, so I have nothing to feel guilty about."

"An arrangement," Pam's teeth glinted in the moonlight, but she wasn't smiling. "Is that what you think Eric wants with you, Sookie? An arrangement?"

"Well, if there is something else he wants with me Pam, I certainly gave him the opportunity to make it clear, and he did not," I snapped back. "You can be mad at me if you want, but Eric is as much a part of this equation, or lack thereof, as I am.

"I asked him, Pam, and he turned me down. Flat. What else do you think I should do?"

"I think you should get over yourself, Sookie," Pam said. For the first time since I've known her, I noticed she looked tired. "He's a man, and therefore, he needs help. You're going to have to meet him more than halfway if you want to get anywhere. Between the two of you, I am about to lose my equilibrium, and that is something I don't lose."

With that she swept out of the room. I tried, pretty much unsuccessfully, to get some sleep.

When Alcide called me the next morning I really wanted to light into him about the Eric and Lance thing but I knew it was a bad time. Our conversation was quick, he had a lot on his plate, but he told me that Lance would be my contact and would be calling me later in the morning. He did mention that I should dress in camouflage hunting gear if I had any.

Well, I had some pink and blue camo mini skirts from Target but I didn't think he meant that. I went over to Jason's and got some gear, a vest and camo shirt, and a hat. While I was that close to the cabin I decided to go up and check on everything.

The weather was cool, about 50 degrees would be the high today, not too bad to be out in the woods. I saddened as I approached my little hideaway. So many things had happened in the last few days.

I went inside and started a pot of coffee, and sat down on the bed to reflect. Had it been only 48 hours since I was here with Eric? Since we laughed and played? How could it be the way it was now, he and I at this emotional impasse, with no plans for a future anything between us, and a major fight to the death battle scheduled to start in just a couple of hours. I put my head in my hands. I just wanted to turn back time.

After a few minutes I got up and poured my coffee. I looked around the room and smiled in spite of myself. Provided I lived through this night, I would have my Viking in this cabin again, I could just feel it. This was not a place for sadness. This place made me happy, and I could not deny it.

I heard a popping noise and looked up to see no one other than my great-grandfather Niall standing in the door of the cabin, dressed as nattily as ever, in an expensive looking dark brown suit and matching ascot, his silver hair braided down his back.

"So I see you've found it," he said softly as he walked into the room, surveying each and every corner. "I wondered what was keeping you from here."

"You know this place?" I asked, surprised.

"I have been to this cabin before, even though it has been many years. This is the only place Adele would allow Fintan to visit her or his children. He was never allowed to come down to the house. Adele thought it disrespectful to her husband."

And then some, I thought silently.

Eww. "So this is where they..…"

"This is where they rendezvoused, yes, until after Linda was born, and Adele ended the affair. After that, she would meet Fintan here every year or so, and let him see the children when they were young, although when they got old enough to remember him she quit bringing them along. After that she only brought photos of the children to the cabin. She would tell Fintan of their progress, and of course, of yours and Jason's, and Hadley's, after you all were born.

"But when your father died, Adele stopped the visits. It just hurt too much, and then when Linda died - well, she wouldn't even talk to Fintan after that. I think she felt cheated. She had born two children by a supernatural being, and both lived less than full human life spans. It broke Fintan's heart. He loved Adele very much, much more than she loved him, in his own way. He continued to visit this cabin every year until his death, just to relive the memories. Every year hoped she would come, but she never did.

"She was always worried about how she had aged, she never understood that fairies, in our truest form, only see the light of a being's soul, not their physical manifestations. Fintan always saw Adele as breathtakingly beautiful as she had been the first day he laid eyes on her."

I was silent. I couldn't help but think of how my grandmother loved to read romance novels, always asking me to pick her up a new one at the library or the book store, when this great romance was playing out in her own life, and she chose to ignore it.

"So what's the magic with this place?" I asked. "Several people have mentioned wards. Eric couldn't get past the moss circle the other night until I asked him in."

"Fintan put a lot of magic in this place for Adele's sake. She was so nervous about the affair, about the safety of the children, knowing how attractive the children would be to other supernaturals, how someone might try to hurt me through all of you. He wanted her to have a safe house, a place where she could feel at peace, with him or with the children. He warded this cabin in a very specific way, and worked on the magic every time he came here. He did it out of pure love for Adele and his family. The wards still hold; you'll rarely find a place as safe as this one, magic wise. Remember that."

I nodded my head. "And did he put any other kind of magic here, anything to affect feelings?"

"No, I know for a fact specifically he did not want to influence Adele's feelings for him by magic. He had used magic when he met first met her; most likely she would not have begun the affair without it. When she realized that he used magic she became very angry and threatened to end the relationship. He swore he would never use it on her again, and to my knowledge he never did. Adele would not have it. Anything you feel here will be genuine, it just may seem intensified because of the safety aspect, that is all."

That made me feel better. I could use all the safe places I could get.

"Sookie, I came looking for you to tell you that I have heard of the trouble with the Weres tonight. Because of the large amount of human involvement, fairies cannot be pulled in."

Where had I heard that before? I nodded again.

"We can't risk the exposure, Sookie. We are not cowards. Fairies will fight but humans are very dangerous to us. They can wipe us out, and have wiped a great many of us out, just by their sheer numbers and consequent damage to the forests. There is nothing on earth more dangerous than mankind, Sookie."

Those words rang true.

"But if you need me, really need me, call me. I will find a way to help if I can. I just can't send in fairy troupes, you understand."

He turned around to leave, his hand brushing the door as he glanced around the room once more. "It's good to see you here, Sookie. It seems right." And he was gone.

I sat down on the bed again and shook my head. Okay. No vamps, no fairies to help me out of this mess. Tonight would be just me and the two-natured. Suddenly I felt very alone.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N There will be more nookie, I swear. Hold on. Thank you again, TxGal._

**Chapter 11**

I went back down to the house to wait for Lance's call. I fidgeted and paced around for about thirty minutes before the phone rang. Lance launched right in to the plan.

"Sookie, you and I are going to be working together, maybe joining some other folks later. One corner of Hot Shot remains uncovered by the FOTS, according to Alcide. The northwest corner on the Texas side is bordered by protected land, and a few Choctaw burial mounds and holy grounds.

"And since I am half-Choctaw, on my mother's side, I am a member of the Choctaw nation, and I have permission to cross the property. We'll be going in through that direction, trying to get to the main camp. Alcide wants you there, in case you can pick up on anything. I've got some preparations to make, and I'll pick you up about two. Wear jeans and heavy boots, we'll be hiking through some rough spots."

He went on to explain how we would go in through the woods bordering the holy grounds. No FOTS had been spotted in that particular part of the county, probably due to the protected status. The pack had been sending 'ringers' in all morning and would continue throughout the day, until all the two-natured were replaced with non-shifters all over Hot Shot. The pack planned to circle the FOTS with a larger circle of Weres and shifters on the outside, and close them in.

I began to barrage him with questions. "Why does this thing have to go down like this, anyway? Couldn't we just expose what's going on? I mean, just call law enforcement, let them go out there, and let them take care of it."

"At this point there is no proof, Sookie, just what you've heard in people's heads. It's less than hearsay at this point. We know they've been setting up hunting camps, but that's legal to do."

"But what about fines for night hunting and shooting animals out of season? I mean, there's no such thing as panther season, and wolves are only hunted if there is a cull or something," I asked. It just seemed to me that the men folk wanted a fight for fight's sake.

"Most of the law enforcement and wildfire officers in the area are at a conference in New Orleans this weekend. The rest have been paid off, Sookie. It's a dirty deal, and there are lots of hands in it."

I became quiet as I processed this new bit of information. Maybe the fight was unavoidable. Lance got off the phone quickly. I was left sitting in a kitchen chair staring at the tabletop.

Okay, that meant I had approximately five hours to kill before he picked me up. What does a person do why they are waiting for battle? Wash the windows? Pumice their feet? I nervously cast around for a way to occupy my time. Finally I decided to do some internet research and work on a few press releases. This kept me occupied for several hours. I then dressed in Jason's clothes and cap. I had just enough time to drive to a Pack N Post in Shreveport and pay to send some faxes, making sure to pull the cap low over my face and pay with cash. I got back to Bon Temps just before 2 pm.

I heard Lance's truck pull up and walked outside. He looked me up and down and laughed. "You look like a guy," he said. I still had my hair tucked under the cap.

I jumped in the truck and we took off. I noticed he was wearing jeans and a thin tan leather shirt that accentuated his torso nicely. He smelled like he had been outside all day, like evergreens and fresh cut wood.

"I didn't realize you're half Choctaw."

"Yes. My mother, who I told you is full human, is Choctaw. Not many people realize that Native American people have been much more aware of the supernatural than the rest of the populace for the last few hundred years. We've known about Weres and shifters for centuries. You'll notice how often Native Americans are depicted in the company of wolves? It's not a coincidence." I hadn't ever thought about that, but it certainly is true.

I looked at Lance more closely. I could see the Choctaw heritage now that I knew to look for it. He had golden brown skin, much darker than Alcide, high cheekbones, a straight, elegant nose, and a strong jaw line.

"I think my mother was able to accept my father more readily because her people had knowledge of the two-natured. Half Cajun, half Choctaw, and half of the Cajun is Were, so do the math," he laughed. "I'm just a mish mosh." I got a little embarrassed, as I knew he noticed I was staring at him. Boy, it all fit together to make a pretty package though. I tried not to gape at the way his muscles rippled under the leather of his shirt.

"There's also an ancient Choctaw story about a hunter who became a deer. We believe this may have been one of the first records made of shifter existence in America."

I felt momentarily overwhelmed by how much I did not know about the Supe world. We were silent for the rest of the trip. When we got to the border of the protected area, Lance parked the truck and we began the trek through the woods. We continued through the woods in silence.

"Sookie, stick close to me if anything happens. We're trying to sneak up on the main camp."

"How long have you known Weres?" Lance asked as we walked. "I know your old boss Sam, is a shape-shifter."

"Yes, but he didn't tell me until about a year and a half ago. We were really close, but since I've had this job, we haven't spoken much."

"And you and Alcide met while you were working for the vamps?"

"Yes." I hesitated before going further, then launched in.

"I'm not really very happy with Alcide right now, Lance. He told a friend of mine that you and I were more involved than we are – and it caused me some problems on the personal front."

Lance swore underneath his breath. "Oh, God, Sookie. Alcide can be such a prick sometimes - pardon my French – especially around vampires. They give him an inferiority complex, so he starts obloviating. I'll talk to him." I nodded.

"So, I heard you dated Quinn," Lance continued conversationally as we dug through the brush.

Oh, God.

"Briefly." I said, briefly. Lance chuckled.

"Yeah, he's not the same guy he used to be," Lance said. "You know, he's always had issues, but one thing you could say about Quinn, he's loyal to his family and he's brave. The guy fought vampires in the pits, and won, for years. That's no small thing."

Well, that's true. But I so did not want to talk about Quinn.

Lance and I stopped in front of a group of three mounds. There were little hills of dirt, about six feet high and four feet wide, covered neatly in pine needles.

"These mounds aren't happy places," Lance said quietly. "The Choctaw placed a great deal of significance on the bones of their ancestors. When they were relocated to Oklahoma from the Mississippi basin, they tried to take the bones with them, they only made it this far." He placed his hand reverently on the ground beside the mound. "They couldn't carry them any further, and stopped here to bury them on the way to the Trail of Tears."

I was silent for a moment lost in the solemnness of the mounds. After a while we started moving again. We had about a quarter of a mile of deep brush to go before it started to clear out. We were getting closer to the camp now. Lance held his fingers to his lips to let me know to stop talking

We trekked in silence, both of us trying hard to move quietly. We had gone almost a quarter mile when I took a misstep on a wood log and fell through a wall of brush into a hole, apparently dug as a trap. Stupid me, I screamed. It was dark and smelled funny in the hole and it hurt like hell when I hit the bottom.

"Sookie," I saw Lance's face above me as he leaned over the hole. "Hush, Sookie, I'll get you out." Right about then two men came up behind him and stuck shot guns in his back.

"Well, lookey here, we ain't got us no panther after all, just two losers up to no good," a flinty voice railed. I saw a shuck of dirty blond hair bordering two squinty hazel eyes under a dirty cap lean over right where Lance had been.

"Aw, that's just crazy Sookie Stackhouse, the vamp humper," he cackled, and I knew immediately who he was.

Rodney Ray went to school with Jason, and was always creepy, even as a little kid. He was the kind of boy who killed frogs by holding them on top of ant piles and chased after cats and dogs with a big stick. He came from the kind of white trash family that gave white trash a bad name. All of the Rays had been in and out of jail their whole lives, even the women. White supremacy dealings were a family tradition that went back as far as anyone could remember. Gran had to teach the Ray children in Sunday school the two or three times a year they showed up, and it always upset her because they would use foul language and make ugly comments, even in church.

"Here, give me your hand," he said, reaching toward me. Reluctantly I did, and he pulled me ungracefully to the top. Rodney smiled, displaying small, crooked and stained teeth. Lance was struggling with the other man. "Stop that or I'll shoot the girl," he barked. He pointed a shot gun right in my face. Lance immediately stopped moving, his rage radiating through the air. The other man I did not recognize. He was tall and overweight with greasy black hair and bad skin. Quickly he handcuffed and shackled Lance.

"Got tired of the dead guys, did you, now you got yourself an Injun werewolf," Rodney said, giving us both a dirty leer. "Ain't that what my English teacher used to call a double negative?"

The black haired man guffawed.

"We been out here all day hadn't got to shoot at nearly nothing," Rodney continued. "Ain't even caught one of them cats or a wolf, and I promised my young'un he'd get a fur skin rug out of this deal. Guess we're just going to have to skin one of you."

"Rodney, they told you there wouldn't be any shifters out till the moon comes out," the black haired said condescendingly as he proceeded to handcuff me and put the leg shackles around my ankles. "I know that, Bud," Rodney said. "But they can change before then if they want to, I figured we might see one or two." He was kind of whining at this point.

Nobody talked for a while. Rodney and Bud argued a little about what to do with us. I tried to listen to their thoughts. Rodney's mind made me want to crawl into a corner and hide from the world. I'd always hated his guts. Bud mostly thought about how he'd like some biscuits and gravy and a beer. I could tell by listening, however, that these two had factioned off from the main group due to their anti-social behavior. I guess even bigots imagine they have some standards.

Pretty soon the sun started to set. Bud started a fire and turned on a couple of Coleman lanterns. Rodney eyed me where Bud sat me on the ground next to Lance. He was playing with a knife. "I always thought you were right cute Sookie, even if you are crazy as a shot cat." Lance made a low sound deep in his throat. As Rodney advanced I could see his arms start to bulge.

"Your brother's all right, even though he can't seem to keep it in his pants. Screw anything that moves."

He put his face up close to mine. "Will you screw anything that moves, Sookie? How 'bout I start moving right now." He reached for my breast. I tried to hit him with my hands clasped between the cuffs. He reached out with the knife and flicked both my cheeks, not deep, but enough to draw blood. I spit in his face.

Out of the corner of my eyes I could see Lance continue to puff up. His wrists got bigger, straining at the handcuffs; his chest started bulging at the leather shirt, the arms ripping.

"Hey, look, he's changing," Bud yelled. He ran over to Lance and hit him in the head with the butt of the shotgun, knocking him out cold.

"Eh hee, there went your hero," Rodney laughed, stepping over to look at Lance on the ground then coming back at me with the knife. He pushed his face at mine, trying to kiss me. I desperately twisted my face away from the horrid smell of his mouth. "If you make this hard you're going to get cut some," he slashed at my arms with the knife, making two superficial cuts across both of my forearms. I moaned.

I was getting slightly hysterical from the situation. I wondered inexplicably if Rene had toyed with Tina before he strangled her. Of all the people you would not want to get stuck in the woods with, this backwater Jeffrey Dahmer wannabe would be at the top of the list. "You got nobody here to protect you, you know," he kicked me in the gut at that. I doubled over to the ground, dry heaving from the pain.

"Not entirely true," I heard Eric's voice somewhere above me. I looked up to see my Viking, dressed in a tight green tee shirt and paratrouper pants, grab both men by the hair and knock their heads together. Rodney dropped the knife and Eric wrestled the shot gun out of Bud's hand. Their skulls made a sickening sound as he banged them together again. "Where are the handcuff keys?" Bud motioned to his pocket. Eric ripped the pocket open, spilling the keys on the ground. "Go unlock them now before I rip your throat out."

Bud reeled, but stumbled over and unlocked my arms and legs, then set Lance free.

"Bring me the cuffs," Eric ordered. Rodney seemed too dazed to move. Clearly terrified, Bud returned the hardware to Eric, who quickly cuffed and shackled both men to a small tree facing each other with their limbs intertwined in a lover-like embrace.

Lance came to and sized up the situation. He nodded to me and Eric, and then walked off to use his phone. Eric kneeled down beside me, rubbing my wrists and ankles. His eyes darkened as he took in the cuts on my cheeks and arms. He proceeded to clean them very gently, his tongue and touch soft and dare I say, loving.

"You said no vamps," I stated, somewhat defiantly. "I didn't call you."

"I know, dear one, I heard you anyway. Just like you did with Sigebert."

"You keep the bond tamped down, Eric."

"Yes, but real distress can get through. I don't close it off completely. I only tamp it down because I know you want the privacy."

Suddenly I felt ashamed. I wondered how Eric felt about the privacy issue, but I decided to talk about that some other time. I closed my eyes and laid my head back as he continued to work on my wounds.

"Disgusting creature," Rodney hissed from the tree as he watched Eric tending to me. "Abominations need to be wiped from the earth…." he continued to rant. "Is that the one who cut you?" Eric asked in a whisper. I nodded. Eric walked over to Rodney and in a single blow shattered his cheek bone. Rodney appeared to pass out.

At that moment Lance walked back, closing his phone.

"It's over. Someone sent fake press releases via anonymous fax to the attorneys for the FOTS and the ACLU this afternoon; just to demonstrate what might happen after the smoke clears from this weekend. As African-American Weres were targeted in addition, the NAACP was also contacted. Although all that was bad enough, the real damage was done when the attorneys for PETA received their faxes.

Apparently Steve Newlin's wife is a big animal lover, a supporter of the SPCA and a card-carrying member of PETA, whose attorney called her first thing. When she got wind of the Fellowships' plans to hurt warm and fuzzy creatures, she threatened to string her husband up by his balls, right before she drug him through a nasty divorce.

"That was all it took. Newlin said he called it off because he didn't want the bad publicity, but, personally, I think he is scared to death of his wife.

"Everybody's pulling out. We're done. A few casualties, no fatalities. We are very lucky. "

We walked away from Rodney and Bud towards the clearing. A pickup with a covered bed pulled up followed by Pam in Eric's car. Two burly men I recognized as bouncers from Fangtasia got out of the truck and went around to the back, where one opened the gate. I gasped when I saw Alcide, hogtied and gagged, lying in the bed.

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded.

Pam got out of the car, fully decked out in safari gear, and strode over to me. "He thinks the Fellowship jumped him. He doesn't know it's ended," she said in a conspiratorial whisper. "I'll be having a little fun with him."

"Battle's over, wolf," Pam said, poking Alcide with what appeared to be a riding crop (I decided not to ask why she would have one). "PETA came to your rescue." She ripped the gag from his throat.

"It's over," Alcide yelled in disbelief. I ran over and began working on his ties.

"What do you mean PETA came to our rescue?' he asked indignantly. I tried to get the ties loosened.

"Not so fast Sookie." Pam took me by the arm and pulled me away.

"So, Alcide, you want me to untie you, then tell me you're not going to mess with my master and Sookie any more. No more bullshit."

Alcide glared at her. His face was reddened and his clothes and hair were terribly disheveled. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Say it."

"Pam, please he's my boss," I pled.

"I'm not going to mess with them anymore," Alcide said, looking at me quite abashedly. "No more bullshit. Sorry, Sook. He brings out the worst in me," nodding his head toward Eric.

"I know what you mean," I said dryly. Lance, who had been hovering quietly in the background, took a step forward. "I'll take you back, Alcide." He looked at Eric and me. "Do you want to go with me or are you okay here?"

"No, go ahead," I said quietly. "I'll be fine."

Lance gave me a rueful smile that said a lot. "Sorry I didn't save you. " I walked over to him and gave him a big hug, in spite of Eric.

"Sorry I screamed and got us ambushed."

"No harm, no foul. See ya' Monday morning, Sookie." Lance and Alcide left, then Pam went with the bouncers and Eric and I were left standing alone.

"Everytime I see you lately that guy's around," Eric observed, but he wasn't real pissy about it.

"I'm going to get fired," I stated flatly. "If not for the PETA thing, for the hog-tying. I'm toast."

"So it was you," Eric said with a smile. "I figured as much. And I can only hope you get fired."

"That's really mean. I need to work. Hell, I haven't even gotten my first paycheck yet for God's sake."

"I have a position for you…" Eric started.

"I'm not waitressing anymore," I cut him off. "And I don't want some ridiculous job you just created so I could work for you."

"It wouldn't be for me. Felipe De Castro did some checking around and much to his chagrin, found that it is common practice among Supes to pay their telepaths highly. There are so few of you, intimidation is not an appropriate tactic. He's really quite embarrassed. He has agreed to offer you a position at a salary twenty percent above what you are making now, plus a new car. He kind of feels like he owes you that anyway, after you smashed yours up running over Sigebert.

"And a new car wouldn't be covered in Were fur and smell like Bil Jac," he said with an evil grin.

"Hey, my car is immaculate," I retorted.

"Just joking, Sookie, but the offer is real."

I thought for a moment. "Well, I'll just have to see what happens with Alcide," I conceded. "I did sign a contract."

Eric nodded. "However it goes, whether you leave now or at the end of the contract, the offer is open. Felipe understands that it is your choice, and to a certain degree, you have the power in this situation."

"And do you understand those things?"

Eric gave me a sidelong glance. "Sookie, I lived through Women's Suffrage and Gloria Steinem. I had a lot of fun in the sixties, but I also heard what people were saying. The concept of a woman being independent is not totally foreign to me. It's just I don't usually find that type of woman literally falling at my feet every night at Fangtasia. But I would have never lived this long if I couldn't adapt."

"I'm not falling at your feet, Eric," I couldn't hide the irritation in my voice.

He laughed. "No, my lover, you are a challenge, and quite an unusual one at that. You stopped the war with the internet and a fax machine," Eric said, looking at me with great pride in his eyes. "No small feat."

"Well I had to get creative," I said. "My options were limited."

Eric's smile faded.

"I came to fight," he stated, setting his jaw. "I would have fought for you, even though my King said I shouldn't. He promised you protection through me. He may not take that seriously, but I do.

"I would have done it anyway. I will fight for you. I do fight for you. You should know that by now."

"And why would that be? Why do you fight for me?" I asked, holding my breath.

Eric gave me a measuring look. "Because I don't want anything to happen to you," he said after a moment. "I don't want to waste another year. I don't want to spend the rest of your mortal life trying to catch you between boyfriends.

"I don't want to cheapen what we feel for one another in something we call an insignificant relationship, when we both know that nothing between us is insignificant. Those are the things I do not want."

"What do you want, Sookie?" Eric looked at me with such sincerity. His hair was coming loose from its ponytail and the wisps blew around his lovely, lovely face. The way his eyes glowed made me want to crawl inside them and stay forever. I suddenly realized that the scariest thing about this vampire was how I felt I could so easily lose myself in him. I had all kinds of things to say, but I decided to stick with the one at the front of my mind.

"I want you to take me to the cabin tonight," I said. "And I want you to stay with me as long as you can." Eric looked at me and nodded, then stood up and offered me his hand. "All right," he said quietly. "But you do realize you have not properly answered the question."

We got in the car and headed back to Bon Temps. I found myself craving the security of the cabin. I was tired and filthy and bloody and couldn't wait to get a bath. I closed my eyes as Eric drove and visualized being alone with him in my quiet, peaceful hideaway.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N There will be another chapter up late tomorrow, complete with Viking loving, so don't kill me; this one just got too long. Thank you again for all the kind reviews, they really do inspire me to keep on. _

**Chapter**** 12**

I kept my eyes closed as I laid my head back on the seat of the Corvette. I could feel Eric looking at me every minute or so as he drove. "What?" I finally gave in.

"What made you think of it - the fake press releases to the attorneys?" he asked.

"It's all about the Juice," I said. "You know, they couldn't get him on the criminal charges, so they burned him on the civil. Lance told me there wouldn't be any law enforcement to call; they were either at a conference or had been paid off. I figured the only thing scarier than the law coming after you would be the threat of civil suits. If you can't take their freedom, take their money."

"How old were you during the O.J. trials?"

"About thirteen, I guess. We watched the trial in civics class." I reflected for a moment. "The thing with Steve Newlin's wife was just a long shot, but in the end, probably the most important. What people will do for love. Go figure."

"Yes," Eric said in less than an amused tone. "Go figure." I watched his hands as he shifted gears. I loved the size of them, the elegant, long fingers, the command and grace with which he moved. God, I had it bad.

"What is amazing to me, my lover, is that you did it all without telepathy."

"Well, yes and no. I didn't use telepathy directly to read anyone's thoughts. But I did see Newlin's wife at a press conference on TV once. She had a couple of yappy little lap dogs with her, she was made up like Tammy Faye Baker, and Steve seemed a little intimidated by her. I can't read thoughts through the television, but I picked up on their body language, and I knew she wore the pants. Then when I googled her and found the PETA connection, I decided to give it go."

"So you are attributing this to your ability to read body language?"

"In part. It's related to the telepathy thing. I've read people's thoughts all these years when they were lying, or thinking something dirty, or hungry or scared, and it's kind of like flash cards after a while. I've come to associate certain body language with certain thoughts."

Eric looked uncomfortable.

"Don't worry, it doesn't work so well on vamps," I assured him. "You all have the poker face down to a science. Plus, I can't really do it on anyone I care about, so you're doubly covered." Kind of a chicken shit way to tell him I care about him, but hey, what can I say, I'm a chicken shit. He raised his eyebrows, then gave me a wry smile and visibly relaxed.

"I don't know what you're so worried about anyway. All your body language every does is scream sex, at least to me, anyway." That earned me a knowing look.

"As well it should Sookie, as well it should. But this could be valuable in other areas, if only to improve your reading results."

I nodded. The thought had occurred to me. "I've only just begun to realize I can do it, and I'm at a very crude level at this point, but I know it could be valuable. It's something I need to work on."

"You are a smart girl, Sookie. A clever strategist."

"Thank you."

"Too damn bad you are so stubborn you would let some cracker beat on you and not call your bonded," he said lightly, his tone just laced with sarcasm.

I hesitated a minute before answering. "I would have probably called you if it had gone on. It wasn't really that bad yet."

"Oh, no, I could see how it was not that bad." His tone was changing and he appeared to be getting more agitated. He spoke more deliberately than before, reaching over to grab my hand and squeeze it with his words, harder than I expected, it smarted a bit.

"I want you to call me the minute you are in distress, understand. The minute. I understand the whole independence thing I told you, but it does not apply when you are in danger. I will not have it. You are mortal. I am not. You should let that work to your advantage. You are not going to be able to help anyone if you are dead.

"As smart as you are, as resourceful as you can be in a dire situation, yet you will not call me when your life is threatened? Who do you know who could help you more? I do not understand, Sookie." He seemed genuinely perplexed and a little sad. It tugged at my heartstrings.

I liked that he was talking, but I didn't like the direction the conversation was going in. Still, I knew better than to tell him I didn't want to discuss anything with him. I had pulled that excuse a few times too many.

"Eric, I'm sorry I didn't call. After the other night I thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore. You said you didn't want a casual relationship, and then when I asked you if you had a better idea you said no. I took that to mean basically that we were through. So I just didn't see how I had any right to call."

There was a significant pause. "Just because I don't know how it is going to work," Eric said quite carefully, "doesn't mean I don't want it to be."

Wow. Had to take a moment for all of that to sink in. I felt a great rush of heat rise from my neck upwards, so strong I could hardly breathe, much less speak. Between his little speech before and now this, I felt decidedly lightheaded. Maybe this is what a hot flash feels like, I thought in a detached manner, or perhaps this is what people with high blood pressure feel like when they have an episode.

Holy mother of hell, how long can this dance of ours go on before I just melt into a grease spot like a Roadrunner cartoon? I got a mental image of just such a black spot topped with a little white sign on which someone had printed in crooked letters "Eric Northman Wuz Here", arrow pointing down. Beep beep. I'm done.

I shook my head to clear it. All of a sudden, I felt terribly guilty and ashamed. "Oh," I said. "Oh, Eric I…" My voice faltered as the pain in my back from where I fell suddenly intensified I twisted and gasped in pain again, as the bruises on my stomach were somehow affected.

"You are injured worse than you let on," Eric observed. He tapped the steering wheel with his fingers, an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. "Do you want blood?" he asked abruptly.

"I don't think it's that bad, Eric. If you wouldn't mind putting some on the cuts, so I won't scar, I would appreciate it."

He looked taken aback that he hadn't thought of this before. Quickly, one hand still on the wheel, he bit his finger and I leaned forward. He rubbed it over both my cheekbones, and then dropped his hand to my chin, looking me in the eyes before I leaned back, scared he was going to wreck the car. "Did anything happen with that imbecile before I got there?" his voice affected a casual tone.

I shrugged. "Not much. He tried to talk big, threaten, bullying stuff."

Eric appeared skeptical. "Nothing at all?"

"Well, he knocked me around a little, Eric, you see the cuts, and he kicked me in the stomach."

He looked at the window before speaking. "There are bloody handprints on your shirt." Oh, lord, how embarrassing, I looked down, and there were bloody fingerprints perfectly formed, where Rodney had grabbed my breast.

"He grabbed me," I admitted just above a whisper, "and tried to kiss me, but I fought. That was it." Eric looked at me as if trying to see if I was telling the truth. "I don't think I hurt him enough," he said lightly after a minute, staring straight ahead. I looked enviously at his perfect appearance. Nary a scrape or tear, hell he didn't even have mud on his boots. Of course he was gorgeous as always, his torso rippling with muscles, those powerful thighs filling out the pants nicely. I felt like a slob, as usual.

"If we were a human couple and had a child together, would you understand that blood bond?" he asked suddenly.

Quick change of subject. "Yes, but that would be natural."

"Even though we did not plan it, it was done out of….." Eric searched for the right word "…it was done out of caring. And the time in Mississippi was also a time of caring. I didn't want you harmed, physically or emotionally. It would not have taken the way that it did, had we not had feelings before. I did not mean to damage you.

"But yet you feel damaged." This was a statement, not a question.

"No Eric, I don't feel damaged, I feel influenced, and I feel controlled."

"But when you care about someone or they care about you, is there not influence, control there because they mean something in your life?"

"Yes."

"It may seem more tangible, but in practice there is little difference. I guess it's just the difference between humans and vampires, but to us, Sookie, it is the same thing. The bond only enhances what is there, it does not replace it.

"You think we care for each other because we are bonded. It is the other way around. We are bonded the way we are because we care for each other, Sookie." He looked so solemn; I had to believe that he had great faith in what he was saying.

We were quiet the rest of the way. We stopped at the house first to check on things. Amelia and Octavia were sitting in the living room when we walked in. Amelia jumped up to hug me. "Thank God you're okay," she squealed. "Every eligible male in the parish has called or stopped by to check on you, and some not so eligible, you little prick-teasing Joan of Arc."

"Nice," I drawled. That was really what a girl wants to be called right after she gets assaulted by a predator in the woods. "And you're welcome."

"You do realize you took the worst beating of anyone," she scolded. "There was hardly even a skirmish, thanks to you."

I just remembered. "Oh, my gosh, we left Rodney and Bud in the woods," I turned and looked at Eric. "What's going to happen to them?" Eric shrugged.

"Come on, you can't just leave them there," I said. "You got to tell someone."

"I guess I'll call Alcide after a while and let him deal with it," Eric said finally. "Even though I should have killed him, and I'll be damned if I understand why you care," he gave me an evil smirk. "You little prick-teasing Joan of Arc."

I groaned. Never gonna live that one down. I grabbed a few things and we headed for the cabin.

We started the walk up to the cabin. I was really sore and stumbling and without asking Eric picked me up and carried me up the hill. I just let him.

As we neared the cabin I made out a figure in the front porch. "I thought this place was safe," I said sarcastically. "Jason, what are you doing here?"

I hadn't talked to Jason since the Calvin thing, and I sure didn't want to now, and I really didn't want him at the cabin. "I've been elected by the Hot Shot folks to stop by and tell you how much they appreciate what you did for them," he said. Belatedly I noticed his clothes were torn and dirty. "You don't answer my phone calls, and Amelia told me where you were."

"How did they know it was me?" I asked. "Even Amelia knows."

Jason shrugged. "I guess they figured since it was press releases, and that is your job – plus I kind of told everyone how you were obsessed with criminal versus civil penalties back in middle school."

"Thanks, bro," I clipped.

"Like what you've done with this place. It's on the land Gran left you, so I guess it does belong to you now," Jason said. "I used to bring girls up here back in high school, we called it the Fornication Fortress."

Man, was I glad I'd sprung for that new bed. Between Jason and my grandmother… ooh, let's don't go there. It's mine now, that's all that counts.

"The last time I came there was a man sitting in the cabin and it spooked me. He was really friendly, really good-looking and well-dressed. He asked a lot of questions about you and Gran. He said he was an old family friend. I told Gran about it and she said not to worry. I could tell it upset her, though. That's when I quit hanging around."

"Was he elderly, with long silver hair?"

Jason shook his head. "No, he was about thirty-five, I guess. Nice enough fella, but it just freaked me out. I quit coming after that."

Eric still held me in his arms. I could tell he didn't want to ask Jason in, heck, neither did I. I wanted to be alone with Eric, and soon, dammit.

Unexpectedly, Jason patted him on the back.

"Thanks for taking care of my little sister, man," he said. "Be good to her. She's a keeper."

Eric raised his eyebrows but wisely did not reply. Jason disappeared into the night.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

My body was becoming sorer by the minute. Eric set me down gently on the sofa. I went to get up but he held out his arm to stop me. I sighed and pushed the hair out of my face.

"I need a bath, Eric. Could you start the fire?" I looked at him pleadingly. He nodded and turned wordlessly to go back outside and get some wood.

I headed toward the bathroom while Eric worked on the fire. I sat on the stool by the tub and stared into the water, trying to will it to run faster. I felt self-conscious about my battered and filthy state so I shut the door before I undressed and lowered myself painfully in the tub. I sighed after I settled back and realized I really needed something. I could hear Eric moving about in the other room.

"Eric," I called. Immediately he was at the door. "Could you bring me my handbag and a glass of Coke from the kitchen, please. I need to take some Advil. I'm sorry, I should have done it before I got in the tub."

In less than a minute he was in the bathroom with a tumbler and ice, a can of Coke, and my bag.

"Would you look in there and get me four ibuprofen please," I said, feeling annoyingly helpless. "My hands are wet."

"Are you sure," he inquired, smiling at me in a way that dimpled his cheek just so. "I was taught long ago never to go through a lady's purse without permission." I gave him a smirk and he obligingly dug through my bag and found the small bottle, retrieving the pills and handing them to me with the glass.

"Look what else is in here," he held up a tin of Altoids and waggled his brows. "You never did explain to me exactly what to do with this."

"Yes, I'll explain some other time," I said. "Right now I have to wash my hair and I can barely move so it's going to be awkward and it's not going to be pretty. Go back by the fire, and I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Lover, I will wash your hair," Eric said. "Here, let me help you," Against my better judgment I let him. When he finished I ran some more hot water and laid back and closed my eyes. "I'm just going to soak for a little while," I whispered. "Would you mind bringing me a shot of Jack Daniels - it's under the sink – to mix with the Coke?"

"I've never seen you drink bourbon before, Sookie. You're usually a white liquor kind of girl," he observed.

"Well tonight it's for the pain - and it may be all in my head, but bourbon is my drug of choice for pain."

Eric's face clouded. I knew he wanted to give me some blood, but he did not mention it again. He fairly stomped into the kitchen to get the bourbon, though. By the time he returned, his expression had change to a calmer one. "Who was Jason talking about – the man that was in the cabin?"

I shrugged. "Oh, I saw Niall the other day and he told me some things about the cabin," I said. "I haven't told you about that yet. It seems this Fintan warded this property very heavily with magic for some years so that Gran could feel safe here. Apparently he still visited and checked on the wards for some time after she refused to see him anymore."

Eric looked contemplative. "So it could have been Fintan. It had to be someone friendly; the wards wouldn't have let anyone else in. And from Jason's description, it sounds like Fintan. I have seen him before," he said, handing me the glass.

"Thank you Eric," I murmured, nursing my drink as I soaked in the tub. He went back to check on the fire and make a few phone calls. I continued to soak for a few minutes then decided it was time to get out. I tried to stand up but couldn't. I was too stove up, as Gran used to say, from the fall in the pit or the kick to the stomach, I don't know which one. I didn't want to call Eric to help me out of the tub, he had brought me several things already, and besides, it was just too pathetic. I tried to stand again and almost made it, was three quarters of the way up and home free, when I just couldn't get my leg to move right, lost my footing, and went down on my ass with a sickening thud and a huge splash of water outside the tub.

"Sookie, Sookie," Eric rushed in and bent over me. "Why did you try to get out?" he put one arm under me knees and reached around my back to support me with his other arm.

"Goddammit goddammit fucking bullshit," I cussed between my teeth to keep myself from crying. It hurt like hell, and I felt humiliated as well. Eric lifted me out of the tub, dripping wet, then grabbed a towel with one hand and wrapped it around me. "You are too proud, Sookie," he said gently but in an admonishing tone. "I believe it is a fatal flaw."

He carried me to the bed and laid me down and sat on the edge and toweled my hair with another towel, taking care not to jostle my bruised flesh.

"You know what will end all this suffering immediately," he said, steel threading through his voice.

"I know, Eric, let's just wait and see if it gets better on its own."

I asked him to bring me my drink and he begrudgingly complied. I downed it quickly, and then motioned the little bureau in the corner. "Your night clothes are in the second drawer," I said. "Mine are in the top, would you mind getting me some pajama bottoms and a shirt."

Eric did just that and dressed me, then undressed himself while I watched. You got to love that man.

"Do you want to sit by the fire?" he asked. I nodded, hesitating to ask him to wait on me again. "Would you mind bringing me my bag again. I swear I won't ask you to do anything else." He shushed me and did as I requested. He even fetched me a fresh bourbon and Coke. While he was doing that I rustled around in my bag where he couldn't see what I was doing. When he returned we sat in each other's arms and watched the flames flicker. It reminded me of the first night we spent here, the only other night we spent in the cabin, which was only five days ago, but seemed like an eternity. I reached up and began running my hands through his hair, taking out the ponytail and twirling it between my fingers. He closed his eyes and I saw the fatigue just barely peeking through. With a start, I realized that the events of the day had worn on him, also.

After a few minute I spoke. "Pick any point in your life," I said. "Any age, any century, and tell me about it. Tell me your favorite things about it, what you really enjoyed the most about wherever you were, whenever you were, at that particular point in time."

He started in and I became entranced just at the melodious nature of his deep, practiced voice. He spoke of glaciers and mountain summits, wild animals no longer known, of a world untamed by man, fierce and wild and free. After about twenty minutes I realized my pain had subsided quite a bit. A lull in the conversation ensued, but not an uncomfortable one.

"I'd like to see a timeline sometime, "I said, "just where you were and when, I think it would help me comprehend what you've been through better." Something flickered in his eyes. "You don't have to tell me anything painful," I assured him. "I'd just like to know; kind of roughly, where you've spent all this amazing time." He nodded, a little smile playing at the corner of his lips. His gaze became warmer and his arms tightened. I realized I was in fact feeling little pain, but I was still a little pumped up from the events of the day. Eric had been so sweet to me, and his words had touched me deeply. I wanted to do something special for him, and to hell with the costs. I gently disentangled myself from his arms and slid to my knees on the floor.

"Okay, Viking. You have saved my life, nursed me back to health, and entertained me, all in the same evening. You deserve to be rewarded."

I reached up and in one movement pulled his pajama bottoms to the floor. I swallowed the last of the nine or ten Altoids I'd been working on over the last half hour. I leaned forward and took his length, which was now fully hardened after my speech, and wrapped my lips around it. I slid down quickly then back up. Then slowly, I did it again. When the air hit him the second time his eyes widened at the sensation. I took a deep breath from my lungs and blew hot air over his flesh. Next, I took a shallow breath from the outside air and blew my cold breath over his full length. I rolled my tongue and began working in earnest, up and down, sliding in and out, my hands gripping his base. Relaxing my throat, I slid all the way down, then took him out of my mouth long enough to thoroughly tongue him, before resuming the up and down strokes.

"Sookie ahh ahh Sookie oh don't stop Sookie oh the gods," he was chanting at this point. Without stopping what I was doing I reached into my purse and removed a package of Fun Dip, tearing it open while still flicking my tongue across the tip. I covered him in the dip, my tongue still going round and round.

He mumbled something unintelligible. "Hush," I said.

His ankles dug back in the sofa and he clawed at the cushions. His thighs felt like iron rods beneath my hands. I used my tongue to thoroughly remove every trace of the candy. Eric hissed, moaned, cussed and groaned while I continued to push my tongue into every crack and crevice. I was covering every bit of him with alternating hard and soft flicks of my tongue. When all the candy was removed I leaned forward to take him into my mouth again, his eyes were bugging at this point. "Sookie, Sookie, I don't know how much longer," he panted. I shushed him again.

I made a fist with my right hand and began to rock the knuckles back and forth on the firm hump of flesh behind. Applying more pressure, harder and harder I rocked, licking and sucking his straining member simultaneously. I'd actually read this particular move from Lafayette's mind one night when I let my shields down and he was thinking about how he was going to pleasure one of his many lovers. I sure hoped I'd get it right. Eric made a gargantuan effort to compose himself.

"Sookie," he struggled to maintain an authoritative tone, "it is imperative that you do not stop what you are doing. Do you understand? Whatever happens, Do. Not. Stop." It was exactly the same tone he used when giving directions in an intense, non-sexual situation and I almost giggled, but alas my mouth was full. I rocked back and forth and sucked really hard right before Eric came undone, rising off the couch. A strangled cry tore from his throat. I reached up to grab his ass and pull him even closer. Then his posterior muscles clenched and tightened like rocks beneath my fingers. Suddenly he came like a freight train, pulsing and pouring like never before. I choked from the momentum and volume of it, but held steadfast, determined to see this to completion.

I sat back on my heels, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. Hell, yeah! Poor Lafayette would have been proud.

Eric regarded me through half-open eyes, his body finally relaxed and a look of pure satisfaction on his face. We basked for a few long moments before his expression became tinged with a little uncertainty.

"My lover, where in the world did a girl like you learn to do something like that?" he asked quizzically. "You weren't like one of those Catholic girls parodied in the movies that stay technically virgin but do everything else under the sun, were you?"

I glared at him. Of all the nerve, that was a fine thank-you. "Look mister, I was pure as Ivory freaking Soap until I met you vampires. Don't even suggest that. I'm extremely insulted."

"Oh lover, don't be. I'm just giving testament to your natural skill," he said his voice filled with teasing affection.

"Don't worry about it happening again anytime too soon, mister," I groused. "I'm not in the best of shape, I knock myself out trying to do something that, at least to me, is new, and you show your appreciation by calling my virtue into question. You can stick it where the sun don't shine….."

Eric laughed, stood, and pulled his pajama pants back up. He picked me up under my arms as easily as if I were a kitten, swinging me up into his lap as he sat back down. "You are too easy to tease dear one, you do amuse me so."

I swatted at his arm and struggled to get out of his lap, but he held me firm.

"You have to remember, I know what people think, Eric Northman, and people think some real filthy things. Before I learned to shield I got myself an education, let me tell you."

"Do not be mad at me lover, I appreciate you for every thing you are," he soothed. I settled down a bit. "What would you like for me to do for you tonight?"

In spite of myself shivers and tingles went down my sore, bruised spine.

"Eric I don't know if I can stand much of anything," I admitted, "but having you here is enough. He smiled and began to massage my shoulders, his touch as light as a feather.

"I will not ask you to move a muscle," he said quietly. "You tell me if you like what I am doing, or if you do not, is that acceptable?"

I nodded my head. He continued to massage me, paying close attention to my head and shoulders, never touching me in a sexual way. I realized he wasn't going to touch me like that unless I asked him to, or I touched him that way first. Once I realized nothing was going to progress unless I gave the go ahead I relaxed. "Talk to me while you touch me," he said. He picked up where he left off with his History of Eric lesson, and I dreamily listened.

"What do you miss the most?" I mumbled, my words slurred.

"The thing I probably miss most is the climate of my homeland," Eric said. "As simple as that seems. The weather here is less than optimum. I know that it is more humid down around New Orleans but it is still bad enough - and the mosquitoes," he shuddered – yes actually shuddered, "We did not have to deal with them growing up. Vile creatures that have no reason to exist in the natural order that I can find."

"I thought mosquitoes don't bother vampires." Bill told me that once.

"Well they don't bite us, if that's what you mean, but they bother me plenty," he scowled heavily. "It's the principle of it, an insect that sucks blood." Pure disgust radiated in his voice.

I stared at him, dumbfounded as his words sunk in. He couldn't possibly be serious, I told myself, but one look at his face and I knew he made no joke. I know my mouth hung open at least two inches. That was perhaps the most ridiculous statement anyone had every made in my presence. This humongous blood sucker was sitting before me in all his glory, complaining about the nature of a mosquito. The hilarity of the moment bubbled up from my chest and I roared with laughter; I mean belly-laughed. It hurt so bad where Rodney kicked me that I started coughing and sputtering but I couldn't stop laughing, tears were streaming down my face. Eric looked affronted.

"So I take it," I gasped when I managed to catch my breath, "there's no professional courtesy between vampires and mosquitoes."

He glared at me.

"If you both show up at a party, do you all take it outside or just try to ignore one another?" I choked again. Eric set his mouth in a straight line.

"They are really a nuisance Sookie," he snapped. "They get in the dumpster at Fangtasia and breed over night. They spread infection. In the hotter months it is difficult just to stay ahead of them. They will breed anywhere, anytime. They are insatiable," he bit out.

I hooted at that, wiping the tears from my eyes. Eric continued to look angry for just a minute, and then the ridiculousness of the conversation must have seeped in, because he quietly began to chuckle, before openly joining me in my laughter. He held me from falling off the couch and pulled me back into his arms. We quieted together, an errant sound of amusement still escaping here and there.

"What is the best thing about being a vampire?" I asked suddenly.

"Immortality," he answered without missing a beat.

"What is the worst thing about being a vampire?"

"Immortality," this with a smile. I looked at him questioningly. "We have no deadlines, for want of a better word, no structure within our existence," he explained. "The way you humans set goals – having to accomplish this by 30, this by 45, and this by 65 – we don't have that. Sometimes it's hard to stay motivated, with no definitive end in sight, especially for the younger vampires."

I nodded. "But not for you." He shook his head.

"What is the best thing about being telepathic?"

"Knowing how people really feel."

"And the worst?"

Time for me to smile. "Knowing how people really feel." We grinned at each other.

Eric picked up my hand and toyed with my fingers. "We get along well, you and I, when we let ourselves," he said.

"Yes, we share the same zest for life, someone once told me."

"And who would that have been?"

"Bill," I said reluctantly.

"And when did he say this?"

"After he realized we had slept together when you stayed with me."

"Ah." Silence.

"This is what it was like before," he said. "When I stayed with you, this is what it felt like."

"Yes," I said quietly, "but I think this may be better."

Neither of us spoke for a while. Eric watched me as I sandwiched his hand between mine, reveling in the feel of his nearness. He then pulled me softly closer, and began to slowly caress me, starting at the top of my head and working down. I didn't care that I was hurt or tired. I hungered for his touch, so very tender and tentative on this night, it sent me, and that's all there was to it. Every nerve in my body became alive as we competed with each other to see who could touch the lightest, the softest, the most gently. He won, of course.

He moved lower and pulled my t shirt and sleep pants off. He suckled and laved my breasts as if he had all the time in the world to do only that. He continued until I was quite sure no woman had ever had quite that much attention paid to any one area of her body in the history of the world. He paused from time to time to raise himself to my ear and whisper sweet obscenities, making it clear in no uncertain terms how mercilessly he planned to ravish me once I healed. He continued until I was quite sure I would burst if he did not stop, and when I begged him over and over he finally did. The valley between my legs had become completely drenched and as he moved lower he hissed once he felt it, and then grunted in appreciation. Then, oh my lord, you know that nano thing vampires do where they move at the speed of light? Did you know they can do that with their tongues?

Yeah. That's what I said.

But he only moved fast at first, then slowed to a languid pace again. When he had lapped up all the juices from my thighs as well that devil with the blue eyes looked up at me darkly and met my gaze. "More" he growled, then dipped his head to thrust his tongue against the glands on either side of my clit and I did my best to comply as I writhed and screamed. But he held me firm and it became apparent that he meant to spend just as much time down there as he had on my breasts. A kind of erotic acceptance settled into my bones as my orgasm started building somewhere deep inside my buttocks, rising forward and up slowly, but as surely as a pot begins to boil. He, of course, never let up. A keening sound escaped my lips as it rose, wave after wave, stretching out and out, and suddenly I thought I should thank God and baby Jesus, Freya and Hlin, perhaps Eros and Aphrodite and maybe even that cute little girl on the Sunbeam bread bag. Because despite all the crap I've been through in my life; somewhere, somebody must really like me.

The waves receded and started to bring me gently to shore but then I didn't know where Sookie was, I had left her behind somewhere. Eric held himself between my legs, his head on my stomach until my trembling slowed, then pulled up and drew me into his arms, murmuring and rocking until I put myself back together. I smiled tremulously at him when I felt okay, and then he stood up from the sofa, lifting me up with him once again.

"I won't hurt you, Sookie," he said huskily as he carried me to the bed, and how I wished I knew this to be true, in so many ways.

But it was only my pleasure he sought, and I could have cried when he braced himself above me. Just like that night in the hotel we moved like the waves on the ocean, together. I had thought it could never be that way again. He pressed his forehead against mine, my sweat and heat dampening and mingling with his dry coolness, and we tumbled over the edge together. I had never felt so complete, or so completely terrified, in my entire life.

He continued to please me with his hands and mouth, and then I did the same for him again. We fell asleep for a while, waking up to talk and touch every view hours, until nearly dawn. I could have cursed when he had to get up and get dressed. "You never fed," I said.

"I had a little from your wounds, I won't take more while you are hurt," he said. I tried to protest, but he held firm.

"Thank you for initiating me in the Love Shack, my lover," he said with a teasing grin as he kissed me goodbye. "I do hope you will let me come again."

"Tomorrow night," I whispered, looking at him sleepily through half closed eyes. Maybe we could just stay in this cabin and be safe forever and hide from the world and never face reality or people or freaking Supes again……

He hesitated, started to say something, then thought better of it. "Tomorrow it is," he smiled, and then he was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

**_A/N Thank you for all the wonderful reviews and PM's, they make my day. Also, there's a nod to Ann Madison's absolutely fabulous story Dead Ahead in this chapter, no one's mentioned it, if you caught it, let me know!_**

**Chapter 14**

Oh. Oh God. The phone was ringing. I opened one eye and looked around. I was still in the bed at the cabin. I couldn't move. Everything, I mean everything hurt. I looked at the clock. Three p.m. How could it be that I slept that long, hell, I couldn't believe I _could _sleep that long, as bad as I was hurting now. The phone still rang. I picked it up.

"Hello," I croaked, not bothering to try to sound even remotely normal.

"Sookie, where are you?" Amelia's normally cheerful voice sounded worried. "Are you in Shreveport with Eric?"

"No, I'm up in the love shack," I mumbled. A spade's a spade.

"Are you okay?"

"Not really, but I'll be okay in a few minutes I'm sure…"

"I'm coming up." Click.

About ten minutes later I heard Amelia at the door. I'd given her a spare key so she let herself in, Octavia on her heels. They rushed to my bedside and regarded me in silence.

"What is it?" Amelia said.

"I can't move," I tried not to whine, but I did anyway. "I think it's my back or my butt or something. I don't know if I can walk."

Octavia snorted. "Well, it's finally happened. That Viking has screwed you into a wheelchair."

"Shut up Octavia." I hurt too bad to even try to be civil. She had been in a real bad mood for the last few days due to an argument with one of her kids, but, hey, we all have problems.

"Don't try to deny it. It smells like sex in here, big time," Octavia observed. She walked over to the window and opened it. Normally I would have been appalled but I just didn't give a damn at that point.

"Look at my back and tell me if you see anything." I rolled over and pulled my tee shirt up and my sleep pants down over my hip.

Amelia sucked in her breath. "Oh, Sookie," her hands trailed over my hip. "There's a big bruise right below you tailbone and spreading over the top of your butt cheek. It looks terrible, it's huge and turning black."

Octavia looked over her shoulder. "Oooh, that's bad. That vampire do this to you?"

I glared. "No I fell in a pit yesterday. And Rodney Ray kicked me in my stomach. I rolled back over and pulled up my shirt. "But my stomach really doesn't hurt that much anymore."

There were bruises on my abdomen, but not that many. They only hurt when I pressed on them.

"You had sex with Eric feeling like that."

"Well, it didn't hurt that bad last night, I had a couple of drinks and I guess I was running on adrenaline," I said fretfully. "And Eric and I were having such a good time…."

Octavia snorted again.

"No, not just that, we were talking and stuff, he had said some really sweet things, I wanted to be with him, and well, hell, shit happens," I finished lamely. "I know this bruise didn't look this bad last night, and it sure as hell didn't feel this bad."

"No, things like that are usually worse the next day," Amelia said. "But you need to go to the doctor." Octavia nodded.

"Are you crazy, it's just a bruise."

"Yeah, but it's a bad one you need to be seen." Amelia was adamant. "You should have gone last night."

"People do stupid things when they're horny," I retorted. "Hence the continued unplanned pregnancy rate even in this age of highly advanced birth control.

"Besides, it's Sunday. My doctor's office is closed and I'm not sitting in an emergency room for five hours."

"There's a new Urgent Care just this side of Shreveport. People hardly know about it, Tray got right in last week after he sprained his ankle. You're going."

I fussed and complained some more but they would hear none of it. I took some more Advil and after a few minutes managed to hobble down to the house so I could take a shower, a bath was just impossible.

After moving around a bit and taking the ibuprofen I felt some better but it still hurt like hell. Even though it was winter I couldn't think of much to wear. I couldn't stand to feel much pressure. I couldn't bend at all so I pulled a sleeveless hippie dress from the back of my closet, it was really pretty in a renaissance sort of way, even if not seasonal, but most importantly it was comfortable. It had an empire neckline, and a fluttery hem like petals of a flower in gauzy rich tones of antique rose and gold that looked good against my skin and fell to my ankles. I slipped into a pair of strappy low-healed tooled leather sandals that went with it, along with a big sweater. I didn't bother with a bra or underwear. It hurt too much to bend and twist and I knew I was going to end up naked in a paper nightgown on an uncomfortable table in a cold room, so what did it matter? I hated going to the doctor, being poked and prodded. I sighed and hobbled down the stairs.

"I will drive you," Amelia said firmly, pulling me with her to her car.

Thank God Octavia decided to stay at the house. I could not deal with her mouth in my present condition.

The clinic was nice and new and Amelia was right, there was no line. The balding fiftyish doctor looked at my bruise for about five seconds.

"Let's get an x-ray and make sure you haven't cracked your tail bone," he said. "You fell from how many feet?"

"I guess about five to six."

"It's a really bad bruise but you'll be all right as long as a clot doesn't form. I'll give you some muscle relaxer samples. You need to rest. No work until Wednesday."

The x-rays were clear. After we ate and went to the pharmacy I looked at the clock, 8 p.m. Oh, I told Eric to come back over tonight.

"Could we stop by Fangtasia, do you mind?" I asked Amelia. "I need to tell Eric we need to call off our plans tonight."

"Sure," she said. I took one of the muscle relaxers and by the time we got to Fantasia I felt decidedly better. It was still early in the evening. Amelia immediately hooked up with Pam in a booth. I noticed Pam hesitated before nodding me back to the office.

I nearly ran into Niall, literally, as I got to the door. "Well, hello, Granddaughter," he said, bussing me on the forehead. "I heard you are quite the heroine after yesterday, but you took too many chances, as usual."

"What are you doing here?" I was quite surprised.

"Your vampire had some questions for me and called me last night after the Were debacle," he said.

"I told him I'd stop my tonight and try to answer what I could."

I looked over Niall's head at Eric.

"Really," I said. "And am I correct to assume that these questions and conversations had to do with me?"

Niall heard the tone in my voice and did not seem to appreciate that even part of it was directed at him. He squeezed my hand and disappeared.

I followed Eric back into the office. He walked to his desk, and very casually, pushed a group of papers on top under his calendar. "Sookie,' he smiled. "Are we starting our evening this early? I had planned to work a little longer, but you are welcome to stay and keep me company until…"

"I won't be staying," I cut him off, still a little ticked about Niall and now wondering what he was hiding on his desk. "I had to go to the doctor because I couldn't move after I woke up." Alarm crossed his features. "No, it's nothing serious, just a bad bruise across my tailbone. He said it's pretty deep, though, and he wants me to rest. I'm on muscle relaxers, but there's a chance a clot could form, so I need to take it easy."

The alarm quickly turned to guilt. "I did notice that a bruise was forming last night, but you seemed to be recovered after the bath and the alcohol," he said, remorse in his voice. "I am sorry, Sookie, I did not mean to make anything worse…"

"Hush," I murmured. I leaned over and touched his face. I didn't want him to think I was mad about that. "You didn't make anything worse, in fact, you helped me to forget the pain with your company and with all the…endorphins," I smiled and a small smile flickered on his face in return. "I regret nothing. It would upset me to think you regretted any of last night, either.

"But, I do need to rest and he told me to stay off work until Wednesday so I'm going to have to call in tomorrow." I really hated that. I am not the type of person who calls in sick to work.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Just give me a rain check, for tonight okay. I want to see you as soon as I'm better." I couldn't believe I said that but it was already out of my mouth, and besides, it was the truth.

Just then a small knock sounded at the door. Amelia and Pam crowded in, giggling like a couple of school girls.

"Hey, we want to go check out a new Goth bar across town," Amelia said. "Can Eric take you home?"

"No," I started, digging in my purse for my cell phone. "It's fine, I'll get a cab or something."

"I will take her home," Eric interrupted quickly. "You two go on."

"I'm going to sleep at Pam's but Octavia can watch you, the doctor said you weren't to stay alone."

Okay. Setup. Amelia knew damn well I didn't want to stay alone with Octavia in charge of watching over me, not with her mouth, and so did Eric.

"It will not be a problem," Eric said smoothly. "I'll take care of it." I pretty much sulked at that point. I did not want to be taken care of, especially not by Eric, after everything he had done for me last night.

Amelia gave me an apprehensive glance. Witch, I thought. She knows what she's done and she will pay. "Bye," she squeaked. Pam grinned, and they were gone.

Eric and I regarded each other from across the desk.

"We will go to my house," he announced abruptly. "You have never seen it; I have stayed at both your homes. I want you to know where I live in case…..just in case."

I protested some but knew it was no use. Eric made a few calls, and arranged for Clancy to close up. "My day man will take you home tomorrow," he said, accepting no argument.

We left in the Corvette and I think I fell asleep, the muscle relaxers must have kicked in. I awoke to a hand on my shoulder as Eric lifted me up and out of the car. We were on the ground floor of a parking garage. We got in a large elevator, and surprisingly, went down.

He apparently had a private floor somewhere under the garage as he had to use a key and several codes to get to the right place. We walked out of the elevator into an immaculate entrance.

Everything was kind of sparse and masculine, lots of dark walnut floors with fluffy white rugs. The overall effect was light and airy; it appeared to be professionally decorated with lots of strategically placed lighting and plants. It did not feel like a dungeon, for which I was grateful. The furniture reminded me of expensive Danish modern, very sharp and clean cut. Somehow one wall was apparently above ground, because there were big windows along one side of the living room. One wall of the living area was brick and a large salt water tank took up most of another, filled with all kinds of exotic fish.

"You have pets!" I exclaimed, and then felt like an idiot.

"Yes," he said proudly, "Those are my babies." He walked over to the tank and tapped his finger on the glass at a particularly large clownfish.

"Yes, hello there gorgeous, there's my girl," he crooned.

I looked at him incredulously. That's right; Eric just called his fish "my babies" and then sweet-talked to one of them. It was strange and oddly disconcerting. Yes, I'm here to tell you, I felt jealous of an aquatic creature. Eric didn't talk to me like that, even in bed.

"Huh," I said, not really knowing how to process my reaction. I walked about a bit, looking around. I didn't want to ask about the bedroom, seemed kind of obvious, but I could see through the doorway where it was probably located. I noticed he had kind of a galley kitchen, small but serviceable, with nice new appliances, and dark granite countertops. "Where is the bathroom, if you don't mind?"

He pointed me in the correct direction. It was nice, huge of course, with the requisite big shower and tub, luxurious towels. When I came out he was seated on the couch, apparently waiting for me.

"I want to see your bruise," he stated without preamble. I hesitated. I didn't want a lecture. Also I didn't have on any underwear.

And no sleepwear with me, I remembered.

"Well, I'll show it to you later," I hedged, trying to casually drift away from him. "I'd like to look around. And I don't have anything to sleep in, so I'll need a t shirt or something."

"You do have something to sleep in. I have under things and nightgowns, as well as loungewear for you here, my lover." I looked at him questioningly. "There is nothing you can say. I only did the same thing for you that you did for me." This gleefully, with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin, before his expression became decidedly more serious.

"Come here, Sookie."

Hesitantly I walked towards him.

"It's really not that bad, it looks worse than it is."

He reached over and pulled up my skirt. I felt the air on my backside. I heard a sharp intake of breath when he saw the bruise, then a shallower one when he realized I wasn't wearing anything underneath the dress. He ran his hand lightly over my skin.

"Sookie, it didn't look like that last night," he said. "I would have never..." I put my fingers gently over his lips.

"You are going to take my blood now," he said forcefully.

"No, Eric really, it's almost over, what's the point?" I asked. "I've been to the doctor and gotten medicine and everything. We'll save the blood for some other time."

"Yes, some other time, some other time when you get injured again," he said bitterly, and I decided not to say anything.

He lifted the dress higher and saw I wasn't wearing a bra.

"Hardly fair, Sookie," this whispered in a decidedly pained tone. "You've been driving all over Shreveport like this - what do you think that does to me?"

I reached up to put my arms around his neck. "Oh, I think it's fair," I whispered. "Especially if you get to take what I do have on off…"

Eric pulled my arms from about his neck, an odd expression on his face. "The doctor said rest," he snapped. "And rest it will be." He pulled off his t shirt and turned back toward the bedroom. "I'm getting in the shower."

I gaped at him. "You're going to hold out on me - to punish me for not taking your blood?"

"No, I'm 'holding out' because the doctor said for you to take it easy, to rest and not work. I would imagine if you can't work you can't roll around with me on a mattress," he said quite reasonably. "If I snapped at you, it is because I am frustrated, nothing more."

I pondered a minute, drumming my fingers on the granite. He stood there without his shirt, like he didn't know what that did to me. My eyes fixated on the manner in which his hair brushed against his massive shoulders, and the small cleft in his chin. "Then give me blood," I said.

"No."

He turned again to the bedroom.

I flew angry. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"You don't want it for the right reason."

I don't know what came over me then. It wasn't right; I shouldn't have done it. But in one smooth move, I grabbed his arm, brought my mouth to his shoulder, and bit down as hard as I could. Rage flickered across his face, and I was scared. He stiffened and moved as if to pull away, then froze. I drew a few times, and might have enjoyed it except a sick feeling in my stomach prevented me from it.

I knew I had screwed up and kept my eyes lowered as I licked the wound, then pulled away. "Are you finished," he asked, colder than any ice I've ever known.

"I don't know why I did that, Eric, I don't know what came over me," I said in a small voice.

"I am sorry. It was wrong…" I stopped talking as I watched Eric pull a mask down over the lust in his eyes.

"I'm going out," he practically shouted at me, then pulled his shirt back on and rushed across the room at such a vampiric speed I only heard the slam of the heavy door behind him.

What an idiot I am, I thought heartbreakingly as I slunk back down on the couch. All the progress we'd made in the last few days, and I go and do something so incredibly immature. I didn't blame him for leaving.

I cried, and then slept a little right where I slumped. When I woke up I looked around. Eric still hadn't returned. The clock said 10 pm. I found the address on a GQ magazine and called a cab.

I tried to smooth my hair out and washed my hands, repaired my makeup, and sat on the couch. I got up and walked over to the stereo system to try and find something to listen to. The silence was killing me. I started playing a Celtic instrumental cd, the music was beautiful and haunting but for some reason it reminded me of kissing Bill. I settled on Spanish guitar. I'm a real sucker for tall, soft-spoken Spaniards, especially the ones with long hair.

My nerves would not calm down. I worried I wasn't going to be able to get out of the building without codes or anything. Mostly I worried I had screwed up past all hope of reparation with Eric.

I heard the door shut and looked up to see Eric walking in, a blank expression on his face.

I looked back at my lap.

I could feel him walk over to me. "I called a taxi," I said, glancing up and focusing on a spot on the wall to the right of his chest. "There's some event going on downtown, so it won't be here for about 45 minutes. If you can tell me how to get out of here I'll go wait outside."

"Have you healed?" he asked sharply, his arms akimbo.

"Yes, I just checked the bruise and it's gone. I feel no pain there at all, it's amazing. I feel great actually." Except for the part of me you ripped out when you left, I added silently. "Thank you."

"And have your rested?"

"Yes, I took a nap."

"So your strength is back."

"Yes."

"Good," he said, his voice rough and low. He pulled me up off the couch and moved me against the brick wall in a single motion. "You're going to need it."

Then he was on me, all over me, around me. My dress flew off in a swirl of colored fabric and he made a pleased sound when I became naked so quickly, and somehow he was naked that fast too.

He grabbed my hands and pulled them firmly over my head against the wall with his left hand, then slid his right hand between my legs only momentarily to see if I was wet enough – nothing to worry about there – and then he was just fucking me, hard and sure, rutting and pounding, grinding his pelvis into mine as he licked my neck, telling me in a profane and graphic way exactly how he intended to make himself feel better.

God help me, I am a sick, sick woman, because in the moments that I could manage a coherent thought, all I could do was rack my brain trying to figure out how I could piss him off this bad again – maybe ask him to cut his hair like Bill's or dress up in a tiger costume for me sometime –that ought to do it - but I couldn't really think that long anyhow, which was a Very Good Thing.

I don't know how many times I came because they all ran together and I didn't care to count anyway. I just wanted to stay there with him. The brick wall scraped my newly healed buttocks so I reached behind his neck and grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking hard. His eyes widened and I yanked again, just for effect. "I'm going to bite you," he ground out, low, dangerous. "And I'm not going to tell you when or where I'm going to do it."

"I don't care," I panted, and I did not. He flipped me around and I braced my hands against the wall. He entered me from behind deeply, digging his fingers into my hips, pulling me down as he thrust up, mashing and pushing farther than he ever had. It felt like he was trying to climb up inside me. I felt a breeze as he pulled out and I moaned, missing him, and then whimpered loudly when I felt the piercing sting as his fangs sank into the back of my right thigh.

He wrapped his arms around my legs to hold me still and pulled deeply once, then before I could even process what had just happened he rose slightly and bit me hard again, this time in the soft flesh of my right hip, and I screamed with the shock of it. A second later he was in me again, just as fully as before, and when he surprisingly bit a third time, this time in my shoulder, I came shuddering, tightening around him as he shook and roared to a close with me. As good as it felt I was just kind of sorry it was over, but took comfort knowing it wouldn't be that way for long.

Somehow we ended up in the bedroom. He tended to my wounds, then opened a drawer and pulled out a beautiful caramel colored silk nightgown, pulling it over my head. He pulled on a pair of black silk boxers and we lay together quietly for a while on the huge California king, piled high with white down comforters and pillows. We talked a little, just light conversation, about Fangtasia and my job. I wanted to ask about Niall and the papers on his desk, but I decided to wait.

"Are you still angry?" I asked softly.

"No, lover. I was very angry, but I got over it after about your tenth orgasm." He kissed the palm of my hand. "I don't think you will ever bite me without my consent again." I shook my head vehemently.

"Talk to me like you do the clownfish," I said, not feeling shy about it at all for some unknown reason.

H e blinked. "Oh, you want me to sweet talk you like I do my fish," he teased, that dimple in his cheek peaking out just so.

"Yes."

"Okay, now, gorgeous," he crooned in that same voice, only now he put the sex in too, and it damn near killed me. "Are you my girl?"

"Yes," I said, "I am." I pushed my face into his neck and kissed it. The teasing went out of his voice and his eyes glowed.

"And what would that make me?"

"You're my guy, then, I suppose."

"So," he said, trying to tone down the smugness in his voice but it still showed through. "You're my girl, and I'm your guy. And, are we still schtupping?"

I climbed on top of him, pushing my breasts into his chest and moving my face down to his. "We are so very magnificently schtupping," I confirmed in my darkest, sultriest voice.

He grabbed my behind, lightly, holding me on top while he buried his face in my hair. "But, there is more," he stated with satisfaction.

"Yes," cupping his face with my hand and kissing him on the forehead. "There is more."

And with that I slowly slid to the side, my back to his chest, and we drifted off to sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

The incessant blaring of a cabbie's horn jolted us awake from our slumber. Eric jumped out of the bed in a flash and pulled on his jeans. "Be back in a minute." He was out the door.

I stretched and decided to get a glass of water. I went to the kitchen and looked in the fridge, surprised to find a few convenience items there, including bottled water. I grabbed one and sat on the sofa while I checked my cell phone messages. Eric came back in looking unbelievably delectable with tousled hair and his belt buckle still open. "Sorry," I mumbled. "Forgot about that."

"Oh, we were busy my lover, it is quite alright." He trailed his hand along the tank as he passed, and that orange-striped hussy turned her body sideways and swam along with him. I narrowed my eyes. "What's that fish's name?"

"Berta," he replied lovingly. I barely contained my snort.

He plopped down in the chair across from me. "Why don't you stay here tomorrow?" He asked. "You are on doctor's orders to rest until Wednesday. You should stay with me at least until Tuesday. We can discuss how we're going to do….this." He raised his eyebrows.

Hmm. That was an extremely tempting idea but… "I'm not hurt anymore. Doesn't seem right not to go to work." Then again, everyone thinks I m hurt, and what am I going to do, go around telling people 'Oh, my new vampire boyfriend gave me his blood to drink, so I'm good now'? I groaned.

"I guess you're right. I can't really go into work with everyone knowing I went to the doctor. I checked my messages and one's from Alcide. He'd talked to Amelia and called to tell me he would see me on Wednesday, so he doesn't expect me. I guess it would also be good to put a little time space between what happened yesterday and when we see each other again, maybe let his emotions calm down from the battle.

"Also I guess you and I are going to have to talk about boundaries and rules and stuff," I said slowly. "But we don't have to talk about it all right now," I finished hopefully, ever the procrastinator.

"Oh, you have rules for me, my lover?" he said with a smirk, running his hand down his chest slowly. My eyes followed involuntarily. "Do go on."

He was going to make this hard, was he, joking around about it? Huh. I can be the Queen of Difficult.

"I know you have a strong…you have strong needs. I guess we're going to have to work out what we're going to do about the schedule so that you don't' feel…neglected." He smirked again and nodded, not really offering anything at this point.

I continued. "Well, our living arrangements are going to present a challenge, but me working three days a week in Shreveport will help. And I know you'll have to feed sometime when I'm not around." I swallowed distastefully at the thought, but went on. "However, as far as any other activity with the donors - I expect you to refrain."

He looked at me blankly. "What exactly are you saying, Sookie?" He furrowed his brow.

"Sex." I said bluntly. His eyes snapped to mine. That got his attention. "Sex with other people. I'm not cool with it."

He pressed his lips together and looked away. "That could present a problem, Sookie," he said after a minute. "The bar – there are certain - expectations. It's not that I would want anyone else, dear one, but I have certain responsibilities and an image to upkeep. I assure you, anything I might indulge in would have no real meaning. It is all part of my job, lover, do not concern yourself about it."

I gulped hard. "You aren't serious."

"Sookie, think about it." He leaned forward, his intense blue eyes framed by blond locks falling forward. "The women give their blood. They expect a little consideration from me. It would be…" he searched for the appropriate term, "_poor form _if I did not offer something in return_._

"You'll get used to it, lover. After a while, you won't even think about it anymore. We will both adjust, and everything will be fine." He spoke in almost a patronizing tone and looked at me smugly.

I felt a horrible sinking in my stomach, as my mind wrestled with what he was saying. _This can't be, I've screwed up, what have I done, what have I done_. What The Hell Have I Done? I felt my eyes widen and the sick feeling threatened to overtake me.

"I'm not trying to be a smartass, Sookie," he said then, staring me straight in the face. "But it's all I can offer right now. If I were you, I'd take it."

My eyes flew wide as I recognized my words. A deep rumble started somewhere in Eric's chest and bubbled forth. After a minute he couldn't contain it anymore and roared with laughter.

"You son of a bitch." Relief and fury battled in my head.

"Payback, Sookie. You sat in my office only a few days ago and offered me a fuck buddy deal that offended me greatly," he became more serious at the memory. "You had it coming, my lover."

I glared at him. "Well, that's fine. Sure. I was just thinking, if you were going to do that, I'd call Bill or Quinn or maybe even Lance and see if they'd 'fill in' for you on the nights you were maintaining your image by screwing the masses," I snipped. "You know, to make it, equitable, the goose and the gander thing. I'm sure they wouldn't mind."

He was on me in a second, overwhelming me with his presence, his massive body, pushing the hair back from my neck and growling in my ear. "No others, lover," he said his voice seductive and dangerous at the same time. "There will be no others. For me or for you."

Still a little miffed, I turned my head away, even though inwardly I smiled. "I didn't want you for a fuck buddy. I don't even know what that means, exactly. I just wanted to suggest something casual."

"Are we casual, lover?" he whispered, his head still in the crook of my neck. "Does this feel casual?" He trailed his tongue along my jaw line, and then caught my lips fully in a kiss.

"I think we established a little while ago that it's more than that," I managed to get out.

"So we did." He sat back, looking extremely satisfied with himself. He fingered the neckline of my gown. "So, you will stay here tomorrow," he stated. "You can shop or watch movies do whatever you want. When I wake we can have some time together before I have to go to Fangtasia."

I nodded. Just then his phone rang. He walked back toward the bedroom to talk. I looked at the tank. There were several other fish, live rocks, eels, etc, but Berta did seem to be the focus. She settled back on a pale pink anemone, and stared at me unblinkingly, her fish lips doing that pursing thing they do.

"Fins off, fangbanger," I said. "He's mine." All of a sudden I pictured her body decked out in a tiny red leather halter and miniskirt, those pursing lips painted a dark crimson to match. I cracked myself up, rocking back and forth on the couch. I was still giggling when Eric walked in. He raised an eyebrow and regarded me from the door.

"Oh, umm," I said trying to catch my breath. "I'm just having fun with myself."

"I can see that," he stated dryly.

"Where's your stuff?" I asked, waving about the room. He looked at me questioningly. "You know, memorabilia, photos, Viking paraphernalia. You've been around a long time, but I see nothing here to commemorate any of it. Or are you totally devoid of sentiment?" I teased a little at this last part.

He sat back down on the couch and pulled me into his arms. "I do have sentimental possessions from my past and highly valuable ones as well," he admitted. "But I keep them in storage, highly secured. I don't want to risk losing it to fire or theft. Also, I don't like being reminded of my past every day. I have spent so much time on this earth, the things feel like baggage after a while, reminding me of how old I am." He said this quite sincerely, with a little quirk to his mouth, and suddenly I realized Eric's age might be a sore subject with him. Ah, poor fella, he doesn't like feeling like an old coot, and I had ridiculed him about it that night in the hotel. I felt a pang of guilt.

"But I do keep things I can't bear to part with, only not around me everyday. I like to live light, simplified," he indicated the room with his arm just as I had done a few minutes before. "It helps me stay focused on what is important. Live in the here and now, but most importantly, live or you know, exist, prevail. What vampires do."

I nodded and leaned my head against his shoulder. I need to ask him something, but I didn't want to start an argument.

"Eric," I said hesitantly, "I don't want to make you angry, but I need to know. What was Niall doing at Fangtasia tonight, and what did it have to do with the papers on your desk?"

He leaned back from me and regarded me coolly. "Has that been bothering you all night, lover?"

"Not really that much, but I have thought about it a few times," I admitted.

He reached down for my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. "I have recently become aware that there has been a significant fairy presence at your home lately. I didn't want to worry you, dear one, but when we were at your house the other night after the battle I smelled fairy all around the perimeter, several fairies, and recently. I picked up the scent of another one, a male, inside the house, but it was older, at least two to three weeks. I asked Niall to give me a list of all fairies who have been spending time around Bon Temps lately, and he graciously complied."

"Not at the cabin, but at the house?" I panicked. Not my safe place….

"No, not at the cabin, I think the wards are keeping out….questionable beings," he said this reluctantly. I shivered.

"It wasn't Claude or Claudine?" I asked hopefully. "Or Niall maybe, he was at my house Christmas Day."

"No, I know all their scents, and it wasn't them," he said firmly. "Perhaps we can go to your house tomorrow night and look around some more. You shouldn't have worried about that all evening. You should trust me to act in your best interest, Sookie. I wonder when you will." He seemed kind of disappointed. "I'll let you look at the photos if you like, maybe something will jostle your memory."

I didn't want to make a big deal of it, but I had to say something. "Eric, I know there's this big feeling around with Supes that I needed to be protected and kept ignorant about things that may scare me unnecessarily," I said. "But I think I would rather be frightened than kept in the dark, especially by you. It's a trust thing, and, well, we're never going to get anywhere if I think you're hiding stuff from me, especially things that effect me as personally as my house."

He regarded me for a long moment. I felt very nervous but held my ground. "There are things out there that you can't even imagine, Sookie," he cupped my chin in his hand and I leaned in. I couldn't help it, he was so damn, I don't know the word, _beguiling_. "It distresses me to think about how you would drive yourself crazy, torture yourself, and lose hours of sleep. But I will try to tell you everything that I can. I promise, I will _try_." Emphasis on try. I figured it was as good as I was going to get right then.

We spent the nest few hours talking and snuggling, and a few other things, ahem. It was tender and easy and I loved every minute of it. I knew this was probably the honeymoon period, and I tried to caution myself, remembering how happy I'd been with Bill at first. I sure didn't want Bill to poison this relationship, though. He had already affected Eric and me so much anyway, and I was way sick of that.

We spoke a little of our plans for the next day before finally drifting into unconsciousness again. Eric's bedroom was light tight as there were no windows and three heavy doors between it and the living room. We slept together all night, and that meant more to me than I ever thought it would.

******

**_A/N Thank you to my beta TxGal once again. Reviews do make me ever so happy. There will be a longer chapter up by the weekend. Misscyn_**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Doubt is a terrible thing. It can rob you of your happiness, take your peace of mind, and keep you from living in the moment. I knew all these things, but still I felt the doubt swirling about the basin of my being, sending the tendrils of fear out, and the dreadful thoughts climbed along those tendrils, into my heart and brain.

It started out innocently enough. I awoke at around 11 am to find Eric stretched out on his back, taking up damn near the whole bed in his stone cold glory. I had snuggled into his side like a squirrel burrowing down in the cold. He was in his daytime stupor, and for once I could look at him, by light of the lamp, without feeling shy. We had been naked plenty of times together, but I didn't want to gawk at him fully when he was aware, and just concentrated on a part or two at a time. But now, I could look, really look, and what a sight it was to behold.

I sat on the bed and started at his head. His beautiful golden mane stretched out on the pillows, the little peak at his forehead, down to the silken, full brows, over the aquiline nose, down the sculpted cheekbones, to the full, perfectly curved lips, so gorgeous and masculine at the same time. I watched the long thick eyelashes and the way they brushed his white marble cheeks.

I drifted past the well-defined jawline, to his long neck, and then to the humongous arms and pects, pinkish-tan nipples, golden chest hair growing thicker and narrower as it became the goody trail to his nether regions. I brushed my hands over the perfect V of his lower abdomen, that part of the anatomy that somehow seems so much more untraveled than the rest, and my body jerked as it remembered how ticklish I am there. My eyes drifted down into darker golden curls at his groin. I felt naughty staring at his male member while he rested, but even in repose it was massive, yet strangely sweet, the softest part of him at that moment, which only made me appreciate it more. I gazed from his thighs, long and muscled, to the well-formed calves, to the beautiful hands and feet. His knees had the cutest wrinkles around them, reminding me of the worry lines of a frowning child.

No blemish marred any inch of skin, although there were some old random marks that must have been made while he was still human. I became fascinated with his wrists and ankles, they were the smallest part of him, even though I couldn't reach my hand around either one, and they seemed oddly delicate compared to the rest. I wondered if he ever looked at me like this when I slept. Many times I know he just laid in the bed with me while I slumbered, because it was too early for him to rest, and I felt a flush start somewhere deep inside my body at the thought.

Had I lost my mind? What was he doing with me, this vampire, this incredible being who could have anyone? How long could it possibly last? The longer vampires were out of the closet, the more accepting society would become, and with society, women. He'd been around a thousand years alright, but always undercover. More and more beautiful, educated women would be after him. How could I possibly hold on? If Bill could get Selah Pumphrey, what could Eric rate in this new age of enlightenment?

And hadn't he told me just last night he didn't like keeping items of sentiment around. Wouldn't I be considered one of these items after a while? He likes to travel light, live free. How long before he gets tired of the baggage that goes along with Sookie Stackhouse?

Not only had his physical magnificence overwhelmed me but also his age, his knowledge. How can I even carry on a satisfying conversation with him? He must feel like he's speaking to a toad. What kind of a stupid, self-sacrificing game am I playing at here? And how could I possibly hope to win? How long before I just totally humiliate myself into oblivion?

And what would a creature like him be doing with me in the first place? Crazy Sookie Stackhouse, you know, that little girl in grade school who ran up to every new kid, hoping to make a friend before they found out what was wrong with her. Hoping that one day she would meet someone who could hear thoughts just like she did. That kid. The scraggly-haired one with the strange eyes, the one who everyone avoids.

I had successfully freaked myself totally out by the time I got in the shower. I let my hair air-dry into wavy curls and put on minimal makeup. I threw on a pair of brown and blue yoga pants and a matching hoodie with a pair of brown Rocket Dogs I assumed Pam purchased for me. Eric's condo/parking garage was very central, with lots of shopping and historic buildings in short distance. I didn't want to be there when he woke up so I took a walk after two, bringing all my lovely negative thoughts with me. Every time I saw an immaculately coiffed young woman in the tonier section of downtown Shreveport, decked out in Prada and carrying a seven-hundred dollar handbag, I saw her through Eric's eyes. This is the one he'll leave me for, or that one, I'd say in my head, again and again.

I kept walking along, basically just torturing myself with every dark thought I could muster. I stopped for lunch at a quaint little sidewalk café and couldn't even taste the pineapple chicken salad, I had worked myself up so. I went walking again after I left the restaurant and before long I found myself in front of Whimsical Traditions, Madelyn's dress shop.

I decided to go in to say hi. Madelyn was at the jewelry counter, trying to untangle a big glob of silver chains. She looked up over her bifocals at the sound of the door's bells and smiled at me. "Sookie," she said, working her way from behind the counter. "Oh, sweetie, it's good to see you again," she gave me a heartfelt hug. "Tell me what's been going on."

I didn't want to get into the Were battle thing, but she seemed to know all about it. "I heard you saved the day, Sookie," she said with a grin. "Now how's it going with the big guy?"

"Well, we're together, as of last night," I said slowly. "But I don't know for how long. I don't really see how he'd want to be with me." This came out in a rush.

"Oh, don't you, honey?" she drawled, smirking at me as if I were kind of dense. "Well, I saw the way he looked at you, and I I've heard your reputation in the Were community, and, well, let's just say, you're considered quite a catch and he agrees, as far as I could see," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "You're a pretty hot potato, in several ways, Sookie. Don't sell yourself short."

"But he's so…" I was at a loss for words.

"Yes," she said dryly. "I know." She walked over to the window and looked out. "You know, I remembered where I knew him from. It was the night I met my husband. He wanted to spend time with me, and had actually asked me to dance, before my husband did. I remember feeling intimidated that night. I didn't know what he was then of course, vampires used to try to blend in, and he did very well. But I just figured he was too much man for me."

You have no idea, I thought wickedly, then chastised myself. "No regrets, I hope?" I asked.

"No," Madelyn said with finality. "I picked the right one for me. Who knows what I could have had with a vampire?" She saw my crestfallen look. "But the situation was different back then, Sookie. Things are changing, have changed already. And you are different than I was, you are a part of the Supe world, whether you want to admit it or not."

I sat down in one of the well-worn red toile arm chairs by the dressing room and she sat down in the one beside me. "Let me tell you something else, Sookie. A human man can make you just as miserable as a supernatural one, can leave you heartbroken, or can just leave you alone. You care about that Viking, I saw it in your eyes that night and I can see it now."

I looked away, unwilling to admit to anything. "He could have anyone, and I'm not that great," I said. "He could have someone who is really gorgeous, higher up socially. I don't see why he would cheat himself..." She cut me off.

"I don't want to hear that bunch of nonsense. He is a warrior, Sookie, and from what I understand so are you," she said, gripping my hand and looking me in the face.

"Warriors aren't shy of passion. They have big, fierce hearts. It's not just how you look or how you get along, although there's nothing wrong with either of those things. He senses a kindred spirit in you also, and that's not something you pick up at Bloomingdale's." she gave my hand a squeeze and I smiled.

"Do me a favor and don't depress me in my old age by screwing yourself up with a bunch of worthless second-guessing. Try to let go of your fear and be happy while you can." I nodded, feeling oddly teary at her little speech. I didn't have a mother growing up, Gran's gone, and this talk felt very maternal and comforting.

"I have something for you," Madelyn said, rising from the chair with sparkling eyes and a smile. "I've been saving it." She went to the back again and pulled out a large white box overflowing with tissue paper.

I took off the top and peered inside. My breath caught in my throat. I pulled out the most delicate nightgown I had ever seen, so pale pinkish-tan it was flesh colored, gossamer light and sheer, completely transparent and beaded with tiny seed pearls in a white gardenia pattern all over. It had tiny pearl buttons down the low-cut v bodice line, and silk pink ribbons for straps. The gown fell to about ankle length, with long slits up the sides. Underneath I found a filmy robe in the same fabric and design. It looked like something a girl wore a hundred years ago on her wedding night.

"Oh, Madelyn, it's just beautiful."

"Wear it for your Viking sometime soon," she said. "Sure I will," I laughed. "He's going to love it."

I paid for the gown despite Madelyn's protests and went happily out the door. She had settled my nerves and I just wanted to see Eric, although the misgivings and conflicted feelings had still left me feeling a little raw. I did wonder how she seemed to know so much about me, but I decided not to worry about it since she seemed so clearly on my side. I headed for the condo and reached the garage a few minutes after sunset.

It took me a few minutes to get in, struggling with the key and codes. Eric was already in the shower, as evidenced by the sound of running water when I got through the door. I set my box down in the spare bedroom and tried to settle myself down in front of the TV, still a tiny bit anxious. After a few minutes I heard the water stop running, and directly Eric came walking out, hair wet and slicked back, clad only in a tightly wrapped towel. Whoa.

He looked relieved when he saw me. I was surprised when he didn't smile. "You weren't here when I rose," he said, striding to the fridge and removing a bottle of True Blood. He popped it in the microwave and then looked over at me. "There was no note. I thought you had run off again."

So I wasn't the only one feeling awkward right now. I filed that thought away for future reference. "I went for a long walk, to get some lunch and fresh air. I shopped some," I said.

"Right," he said as he sat down in the chair across from me, apparently brooding a little. Boy, that towel might be big but it didn't cover much, and Eric had a lot to cover. I swallowed and looked away. Eric saw my eyes wander and smiled a tiny bit, his mood lifting.

"Did you enjoy your day, my lover," he purred. He got that predatory look in his eyes as he stood up and slowly made his way toward me. He leaned over the back of the chair, wrapping his arms around me from behind and enveloping me in that heady masculine scent of soap and aftershave and him.

"I really did. I walked around downtown and saw a friend of mine who owns a vintage shop in the garden district." I couldn't help but put a lilt in my voice when I spoke of Madelyn. I found myself growing very fond of her.

Just then Eric's phone rang and he cursed. He walked back to the bedroom and talked for a few minutes.

"We have to go to Fangtasia now," he said, disappointment and resolve both evident in his voice. "I have some work I have to do if we're going to leave early to go to Bon Temps. I want to check and see if any more fairies have been around."

"Should I wear my dress from yesterday?" I asked, looking down at my casual outfit. "No, you look fine," he said, kissing me on top of my head. "I don't know what we'll be getting into later, so just stay in what you're wearing."

Eric threw on some jeans and a fitted black tee shirt with boots. He walked to the bathroom to run a brush through his hair and I came up behind him and took the brush. "Sit down, please," I said, and he obediently rested on the edge of the tub and looked at me expectantly. I braided his hair loosely and secured it with a black leather tie. "Where did that come from, my lover?" he asked, eyeing the braided leather appreciatively.

"I bought it for you in a tattoo shop downtown today," I said, holding up the bag. "They're made for men. See, I got you all colors," and showed him the different shades, all the browns, red and black and dark blue, the colors he wore. "I thought you'd like them."

"I do, lover," he said, admiring himself in the mirror. God he was vain, but he had every right to be. He seemed a little nonplussed at me shopping for him again, but not so much as the last time. We left and the drive to Fangtasia was pleasant, Eric holding my hand when he could and kissing the tips of my fingers the whole way. All my worries seemed to blow away with the wind as we drove, and I felt that calm I always felt around Eric. It was funny how I could drive myself crazy during the day worrying about our relationship, and then the minute I'm alone with him, it all seems fine, but that's the way it is. Maybe it's the bond, that's what logic would say, but I knew deep inside Eric had always made me feel that way. I guess from the moment he staked Longshadow, I knew that man had my back.

As we drove I realized with a tingly feeling that we were most likely going to have sex tonight, and every night we were around each other from now on, and something about that random knowledge made me warm all over.

Eric must have felt it and glanced knowingly at me as we pulled into the parking lot. "No more running, my lover?" he questioned. "We are together now." The way he said that sent shivers down my spine. I grabbed his hand as we walked inside. "Yeah, yeah," I grumbled good-naturedly, and he laughed.

Pam walked down the hall as we entered the back way and headed for the office, him laughing and me smiling.

"Well, isn't this nice," she sniggered in that evil Pam-like way. "You two acting happy and holding hands. It would warm the cockles of my heart, if I had a heart," she grinned mischievously. "Or any cockles."

I decided to have a little fun. I slid my arms around Eric's neck. "This is my sweet baby," I murmured, nuzzling my face in his chest and talking in the most syrupy-sweet over-the-top baby voice I could manage. "Aren't you my sweet baby, my Viking lover? Tell her." Eric and Pam's eyes both widened and I dropped my arms and howled with laughter.

"There will be no more of that," Eric stated flatly, walking to his desk. "Sookie, when we are around vampires, we will have to maintain…"

"Oh, can it, Mr. Serious," I snorted, flopping down on the couch. "I will act like a subservient respectful little human around your business associates; because that's the way it has to be. But it bites." He leered at me then. "Well, I mean it sucks." He leered bigger. "Oh, you know what I mean. I won't embarrass you around your troglodytic backward alpha male colleagues. Just don't think you can push me around in private."

Eric looked a little surprised, and then gave me a somewhat measuring look before he nodded his head a tad curtly.

"So what's the deal?" Pam asked, looking back and forth between us. "You two are now…"

"Tight," Eric interrupted, his eyes never leaving my face. "We're tight."

"Yeah," I said, grinning at my ancient battle monger's use of semantics. "We're tight."

"You're kind of sickening, is what you are," Pam huffed. "I thought I wanted you two to work things out, but now I may have to rethink.

"Eric," she changed the subject, "I have liquor invoices for you to approve for payment and I need to show you a problem with the dance floor. It's going to have to be replaced." She headed back toward the hallway.

"I'll be right there," Eric said. He rustled around on his desk and pulled out a stack of papers, handing them to me. "This is the list from Niall. Look over it and tell me if you recognize any faces."

I took the papers and began perusing them. Damn, but fairies were good-looking creatures. There were about fifty pages in the document, with names, descriptions and photos. I was halfway through it when I heard Eric and Pam coming back towards the office.

"Sookie and I are going to Bon Temps to investigate a little and I may not be back tonight," Eric said to Pam as they entered the door. "She may want to order dinner takeout when the human staff does in a few minutes. Let her see a menu when it's close to time." Pam nodded and walked out front.

Eric turned and looked at me. "Come over on the couch, my lover," he intoned seductively. "We have a few minutes before we leave."

"For what?" I asked nervously, a little shaken by the expression in his eyes. I laid the papers down and slowly made my way to the couch.

"Foreplay," he stated grabbing me by my waist and pulling me down straddling him. "We don't have time for anything else."

Before I could protest he pushed my hair back from my ear and started tonguing and kissing his way down my neck. His hands were already under my hoodie and cupping my breasts, teasing my instantly hardened nipples. He seemed a little taken aback by my quick response, but if he had known how long I'd stared at him buck naked this morning, he would have understood. I groaned and moved my head towards his, catching his lips in a kiss. Without preamble he reached easily inside the stretchy fabric of my yoga pants and dipped his fingers below my panties, rubbing my clit and pressing inside me at the same time. I ran my fingers wildly through his hair, then couldn't stop myself from moving up and down on his lap, teasing the bulge in his pants.

I threw my head back and cried out with pleasure. He reached up and grabbed my face, bringing it crashing back down to his. He pulled his hand out of my pants and ran his thumb roughly across my lips, pushing it into my mouth so I could taste myself, then thrusting his tongue in right beside it.

We kissed with abandon at that point, and then rested our foreheads against each other. He held my head with his hands on either side; I held his face with my hands along side his jaw, my thumbs toying with that cleft in his chin that I love so. We looked deeply in one another's eyes, and I lost all concept of time and space there for a moment.

"Be careful what you wish for," Pam sneered from the door, one hand on her hip and one holding a menu. Apparently we hadn't heard her tap on the door, so lost in our reverie. "That would be my motto for today."

Eric and I laughed together and she rolled her eyes, but a corner of her lip curled at the same time. I knew how she felt. I hadn't heard Eric laugh this much, sound this content since….well, you know when. The thought kind of scared me again and I felt that familiar feeling of misgiving rear its ugly head, but I pushed it back. I took the menu and ordered a steak and mozzarella sub. We all sat and chatted a bit before the food was delivered. After I ate Eric finished up his paperwork and said it was time to leave. I almost forgot the fairy list, grabbing it on my way out the door.

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**_A/N Thank you to all those who give reviews, they do keep me writing! All my gratitude to TxGal for her beta work. Next chapter should be up first of next week. Misscynn_**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17 **

"What were you doing in a tattoo parlor?" Eric asked out of the blue as we drove to Bon Temps. His lighthearted mood seemed to have sobered a bit.

"Just looking around," I replied. "They had some interesting merchandise in the window."

"The only tattoo parlors are on the other side of downtown," he said neutrally. "You had to have walked a long way." He toyed with the gear shift as he spoke.

"I did," I said. "I walked for several hours. I had a little thinking to do."

Eric nodded and looked back down at the gear shift knob. It always unnerved me how he could drive so fast and not look at the road.

"I felt you," he said simply after a pause. "It was near time for me to rise, and I was not conscious enough to close off the bond. I felt what you were thinking. You were conflicted about us, about me." I did not know what to say.

"But a few minutes later, you seemed to work it out, and by the time you got back to the condo, you wanted to be together again."

I took a big breath. "I don't know what it is, Eric. When we're apart I have doubts sometimes, but when we're together, it always feels right. I'm sorry you had to feel that. I wish you didn't. That kind of stuff about the bond really disturbs me."

Suddenly the car jerked forward. The tires screeched as he pulled off onto the side of the road. Eric threw the car into park and turned to me, for a moment I was frightened by the grim, angry expression on his face.

Then his mouth swooped down on me, I felt consumed by his tongue, his lips, his presence. He gave it all he had, and let me tell you, that's a hell of a lot. Then as my hands gripped the seat, my legs limp and trembling, I was suddenly overcome with a tidal wave of the most powerful emotions I had every felt threatening to take me out with them. I was awash in joy, longing, and beyond that a wild unrestrained feeling of hope that all the crap between us would work itself out. It was so powerful it knocked me back in the seat. I knew the emotions came from him; they had his distinct signature.

Eric pulled back and kissed me on my nose, giving me that grin of his for just a second. "Bond's not all bad, lover," he murmured. He then leaned back in his seat and pulled back on the road, as if nothing phenomenol had just happened. "What the hell was that?" I asked shakily.

"It was the bond, lover, and just wide open for once. I am usually more reserved with my ..expressions." He smiled sideways at me with satisfaction, obviously aware that he had unnerved me. "But I wanted to let you know it didn't always have to be disturbing."

"Pull back over," I ordered. Two can play at this game. He looked skeptical but pulled back over under a little bridge. I grabbed his ears and laid my lips on his. I tentatively touched at the bond, the thing I kept so far in the back of my mind, and I pushed all my frustration into the kiss I could muster, all the roller coaster feelings I had when he wouldn't talk to me after forgetting our time together, and the heartbreak I felt when he avoided me after he did remember. I poured every bit of it into the kiss, holding nothing back.

We broke away from each other, a little breathless. "Was that from when I lost my memory, and then got it back?" he asked. I nodded, too out of breath to talk.

"All right," he said. "My turn." He pulled me back into his arms to his lips, and gave me a dose of the strangest mix of lust, frustration, pride, awe, disgust, rage, and finally determination and resolve I could ever imagine.

I pulled back, confused.

"Jackson," he stated. "You killed Lorena, and were attacked by Bill, of all people, who then proceeded to give you shit when Alcide lied about sleeping with you. Then we were attacked at a damn convenience store and again at your house. Not to mentioned getting staked the night before. Long day. I thought I was going to jump out of my skin if anything else had happened to you.

"Plus," he leered at me then, "the sexual tension between us was rather high." I squirmed in my seat, remembering the time at Russell Edgington's mansion. Fact is, I think of that scene quite often, ahem.

"It's a good thing I got to kill those Weres at your house," he stated matter-of-factly. "Otherwise I might not have had an outlet for those emotions."

It occurred to me fleetingly that Eric's last statement, if uttered by anyone other than a vampire, might sound slightly sociopathic. But I had to remind myself that I am dealing with supernaturals, so I let the human values slide on that one. Fact is, I was glad to see those Weres go, too.

We regarded each other, our minds reeling with this new activity. "Let's think of the same thing at the same time," I suggested, then in unison we both shouted "Shower!" and he and I dissolved into laughter. We grabbed each other's faces and let go. If I hadn't already been breathless that certainly would have done me in, as the feelings and sensations ricocheted and boomeranged around us. We felt the lust, want and need; but more importantly, the innocence that accompanies the memories of our connection on that night so long ago. While Eric had been so vulnerable and scared, yet still wanting to comfort me at the same time; and me desperately needing him, even in his fragile state. I felt how beautiful and strong he saw me, and that feeling I had of being the only person in the world for him. That I was all he had, was mirrored, and I knew he had felt it too. I started crying in spite of myself. We broke off the kiss and both sat back in our seats. I tried to regain my composure.

"This is a hell of a parlor game we've created," I said finally, "but it's way intense. I think we may be playing with fire here."

"Yes," he agreed, first looking a little taken aback himself at the strength of my response, then thoughtful. "Perhaps we should give it a break."

I felt the bond recede as he put it back in its place, and I did the same_. _For the first time I sorta missed it, which surprised me.

We pulled up to my house and the lights were on. I went inside and said hello to Octavia and Amelia while Eric scouted the perimeter, looking for clues. The witches were doing something involved on the stove that had to do with magic so I went upstairs to my bedroom and sat on the bed, perusing the fairy list once more. A few minutes later Eric came up the stairs. "Find anything?" I asked. He shook his head.

"The older smell gets more intense in here," he said, wandering around my bedroom and looking in the corners. "It's stronger over here," he said, pausing at the chest of drawers. He went over and looked under the bureau. "What's this?" he asked, pulling a large wrinkled blue towel from between the back of the dresser and the wall.

"Fairy junk," Eric proclaimed, bringing the towel gingerly up to about three inches from his nose and sniffing deeply. "Some fairy had this towel very up close and personal," he stated, turning to me with an uplifted brow. "It's also rife with other …essences."

I stared at it disbelievingly. What was that towel doing crammed back there? Then it hit me. Christmas. Preston, my Were friend wore that towel when he got out of the bath, and then, later, we used it to….oh no. It was on my bedroom floor when the doorbell rang and Niall stopped by unexpectedly Christmas Day. I heard the bell ring, the hamper was full, so I stuffed it behind the dresser, just meaning to for a second, you know, and then I forgot about it. The deep red, hot flush started at my toes and began creeping up my body. Eric fixed me with his unwavering stare.

If I was Dorothy I could click together the heels of my ruby slippers and repeat 'there's no place like home' until I landed somewhere in Kansas. If I was Rumplestiltskin I could jump up and down until I split in three pieces and the floor swallowed me whole. Instead I'm Sookie Stackhouse and I had to sit there and discuss this mortifying shit with Eric, who, by the way, started getting a little fangy and looked like he could go vampire postal any second.

"He was a Were," I muttered stupidly, barely above a whisper. "He shifted right in front of me." Eric's silence spoke volumes. I stood up, needing to move, or pace, or just freaking leave, and the pile of papers in my lap fell to the floor. I glanced back down and a good deal of the color that had just flooded my face receded. Because there on the list, right below the name I had read only minutes before, one Richard Odom, was a photo of a very familiar face. Preston. Preston Pardloe, age 211, human occupation, corporate attorney for pharmaceutical company, special talent, fast shape-shifting. That's what it said. No shit.

I pointed to the paper, my finger shaking. "Oh," I said. "Oh, no. Bloody hell. That's him." Eric picked up the list and looked at Preston's photo and description, his lip curling.

"Tell me," Eric commanded, still standing there holding that damn towel in his other hand.

I wanted to lie, I wanted to lie so badly, but I knew there was no point. The gig was all but up, and I had to accept that. Besides, if Eric and I did make it out of this horror, I knew I would regret deceiving him about this. I took a deep breath. I had nothing to be ashamed of, I reminded myself. I had done nothing wrong.

"Well, it was Christmas Eve, and I found this injured Were in the woods," I said. "I brought him back home, he had no clothes, and he was cold, dirty and hurt. So I brought him back here so he could get away from the Weres who were after him, and get warm and fed …"

"What else did you bring him back here to do?" Eric asked sharply.

Perhaps the best defense is an offense. "I didn't plan on doing anything! Besides, like you wouldn't jump at the chance to sleep with a naked horny fairy that just happened into your backyard," I snapped. Eric deflated somewhat, but still appeared mighty perturbed.

"I suppose you're right," he said. "But fairies do not affect you, and you thought he was a Were."

I had to take a position and maintain some dignity here. "You can't say anything, Eric," I said, as softly as I could. "You know you can't. We weren't together then, and unless you want to explain to me everyone you've been with since before Rhodes, you need to let it go."

"Before Rhodes?" he questioned, his oh-so-blue eyes narrowing. "You were with the tiger at Rhodes."

"Yeah, well, we didn't sleep together then, we only had sex once, and it was weeks before," I said irritably, not really liking all that I was revealing, but not knowing how to stop. "Then the whole blood exchange thing with you kind of put a damper on things. After that he took the arrow for me, you know, and, nothing ended up happening before we broke up. He was really upset about it."

Eric tried not to smile and failed miserably. "Well, I hate that I messed things up in the romance department for you and Quinn," he snarled with relish.

I decided not to say anything about that. "Would you do me a favor and get rid of that thing? Throw it in the hamper or out the window or something, okay? Just get rid of it."

Eric looked down at the towel in his hand as if he had forgotten it. He brought it up to his nose again as if to sniff and I made a strangled sound. "Give me that," I lunged forward to reach for it. He pulled his arm back as I got closer. "Come here Sookie," he said. I noticed his pupils were dilated and his fangs had come down even more.

I struggled desperately to get control of the situation.

"Eric, if you think you're gonna get sexy with me when you're all hopped up from huffing my one-night stand's three-week-old sex towel, you've lost your blood-sucking mind," I said in as strident a tone as I could. He stared at me blankly for a moment before the lust in his eyes receded somewhat.

"Well," he said, quite diplomatically for the situation in my opinion, "I can see how that might be weird for you." He walked to the bathroom and threw the towel in the trash can, and I gave a sigh of relief, and then decided to make a point while I could.

"I'd like to take this opportunity to point out how invasive and downright ill-mannered that vampiric heightened sense of smell can be," I stated. "You people really ought to consider wearing plugs in your nostrils in social situations. I mean, it would only be polite." Eric snorted and folded his arms across his chest.

"There's something strange about this whole situation, Sookie," he said. "It's not like you to take up with a man that quickly. Plus he lied about being a Were. Did it not feel odd to you?"

I reflected for a moment. "I remember the whole thing through a kind of fog, to be truthful about it. I mean, I remember that it was unexpected and fun," Eric glowered at me darkly. Too much information, I guess. I continued quickly. "But it did seem strange, like something was out of place. I just attributed it to the holidays, and how screwed up they can make a person feel anyway. Everyone was out of town, and I wasn't speaking to Jason. I guess I was just glad to have someone to spend Christmas Eve with," I realized how pathetic this sounded after the words left my mouth. He just looked at me, an unreadable expression on his face. Suddenly the fight went out of me.

"Oh, lord, Eric, I'm sorry if it upset you," I said. "Even though it's unfair of you to get mad, you can't help how your gut reacts."

"Shh, lover," he said, not moving forward or taking his eyes off me. No one spoke for a few seconds that seemed to stretch out longer and longer. Finally he broke the silence.

"I'm not judging you, Sookie; you're looking at this whole thing the wrong way. I don't like hearing you've taken another lover, particularly if you did so out of loneliness that I could have eased, but that is not my main concern here from logic's standpoint.

"Something is not right with this story, and there have been other fairies on this property. I'm just trying to help you figure out what's going on. Are you sure that Preston Pardloe is his name?"

I nodded. "He left me a note. And signed it." I rummaged through my chest of drawers and found the note in the back. Eric walked over to the dresser and took the note, gently, out of my hands. He glanced at the signature briefly, but I'm not sure he didn't read the rest of the message. He handed it back to me, his mouth set in a straight line. I threw it in the trash can by my makeup table.

"I'm calling Niall," he said. "His fucking fairy fingerprints are all over this."

"No, you are most certainly not going to call my great-grandfather and ask him if he knows some man I had random casual sex with, even if he is a fairy." I became adamant.

"Somebody's going to call Niall." Eric's tone brooked no argument.

I sighed, picking up my phone at the same time and dialing before I lost my nerve. Surprisingly he answered. I launched right in.

"Do you know anything about a fairy named Preston who showed up naked in my woods Christmas Eve?"

I heard him draw a breath. He started in and my eyes widened. I walked away from Eric, down the hall, so I could process the information in peace. Surprisingly, Eric did not follow. My great-grandfather told me everything, my heart sinking the whole time. I wandered downstairs after I hung up the phone and sat outside in the porch swing. Octavia and Amelia had apparently retired to their bedrooms.

Eric walked out of the house and sat down beside me. We didn't speak. He picked up my hand and started playing with my fingers, waiting.

"It was Niall bullshit," I finally said slowly. "Just like you said."

"He called it a Christmas present. Said he could tell I was lonely, and set the whole thing up to cheer me up for the holidays." I gave a bitter laugh. "With relatives like this, who needs enemies, right?"

Eric squeezed my hand.

"He said that Preston told him he used magic on me – to get things started. He also said Preston called him afterwards and asked if he could see me again," Eric's fingers tightened here, "but he told him no. He doesn't know who the other fairies could be, but he said he would look into it and get back to us."

Eric didn't say anything, and I wished he would. After a few minutes he kissed me on my temple.

"I am sorry I left you alone at Christmas," he said. "I could tell you I did not think it was important, but that would not be the truth. I do not celebrate Christmas, but I see the pageantry around me. I sign Christmas cards for the bar, I give my human employees bonuses, and I hear the waitresses arguing over who works Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. " Not making me feel any better here. "I was preoccupied with work and politics, but I still knew it was important to you, I just thought your family and friends…." He stopped when he saw the stricken look on my face.

I needed some more time to think about this. A fairy wandered onto my property, used magic on me, seducing me, just like Gran. Just like Gran. I silently said a prayer to my grandmother, asking her to forgive me for any uncharitable thoughts I might have had about her.

"Fairies think about sex differently," Eric said, sensing my thoughts. "I'm sure Niall was perfectly altruistic in his intentions." I could hear the edge in Eric's voice, although he tried hard to speak comfortingly.

"It was a bad year, Eric, okay? Let's just write it off as that. I had a bad year." I tried my best not to sound sorry for myself. "Do you want me to stay here tonight?" he asked. I thought for a minute. "Maybe tonight I should try to rest," I said. "it's been quite an evening.

"Can you let me stay alone tonight, and maybe come see me tomorrow?" He nodded and stood up, offering me his hand. I got the box with my nightgown out of the back seat of the Corvette. As he drove off I wanted to run after him, beg him to stay. Instead I watched his headlights illuminate the dark for as long as I could, an ache I did not fully understand settling in my heart.

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**A/N Thank you for your reviews, they are the only way I have of gauging the effectiveness of my story. Happy spring break vacation to my hard-working beta TxGal. Next chapter by Saturday, muse willing.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N Remember I am a review ho and not ashamed to admit it. Next chapter early next week, again, muse willing. Happy spring break to all of you going on vacation. To my beta TxGal, this smut's for you!**

**Chapter 18**

"Come back," I whispered into the phone, my breath making a foggy patch on the window I had my forehead pressed against. Eric hadn't been gone ten minutes. I went in the house and almost had a panic attack I needed him so. I tried to fight it but there was no getting away from this, I was a goner. I knew it.

"That's my girl," he returned in that deep sweet voice that slays me, full of all the promise in the world, and I melted below the waist while everything above posed for battle.

I dropped the phone and headed out the door, my desire primal and raw, and my feet beating the gravel like a drum. I ran to the end of Hummingbird Lane and turned toward the main road. I heard the roar of the Corvette's engine before it came around the curve. His headlights caught me and he stopped in the middle of the road and threw the car in park.

Eric opened the door in a flash and before he could stand up straight I was on him, grabbing him by the neck, jumping into his arms and crawling up his body. He met me move for move, his hands and mouth everywhere, all over me. He carried me over to the fence, pushing my hoodie up and yanking my pants off in one motion. I worked on his clothes, but he did not need my help, and before I knew it his shirt was off and his pants were down and he had me pinned against Joe Montgomery's fence post, grinding against my clit as he drove himself into me, again and again. I heard flesh hitting against flesh, the slap of everything he had against all of mine, and I wanted more, I wanted all of it.

Anger ripped through me, at Niall, at Preston, at my life in general. "Is that all you got?" I whispered again, this time in his ear, not the smartest thing to say to a vampire, I know; he growled as he increased the pace mightily, slamming me harder and harder, deeper and deeper but never too much, Eric never goes too far, always knows what I want, what I need. I wanted it to hurt a little, a fresh sweet physical pain to wipe out the dull emotional one in my heart; not something I usually do, but this time, that's what it was going to take. I wanted Eric to fuck the fairy memory right out of me, and he was damn near knocking himself out trying.

The splintery fence post wrecked havoc with my backside but I didn't care. I dug my fingernails in right below Eric's ass, cupping his cheeks from underneath and driving him on.

I watched his face, how the shadows played across his sculptured features, as he worked so hard to please me. His eye caught mine and he smiled just slightly, then brought his chest in closer to me so I could feel him crushing my breasts, thrusting his tongue in my ear, my mouth, anywhere he could taste me, take me. I wrapped my arms around the wire on both sides of the post, silently thankful that it wasn't barbed or electric, not sure how far or fast I could have moved in either case. I felt the end nearing with a little pang and brought his head to my neck. "Bite me," I said, and as he turned his head to go lower I grabbed him by the chin, "No, on my neck," I snarled, low and intent, "be a vampire, goddammit, and bite my neck!"

His eyes flashed an angry red, his face froze and he glared at me with fangs fully down, so fervent I suddenly knew how his prey felt right before he struck, hard, and I screamed. Just to defy me he bit right in the curve between my neck and shoulder, sometimes you can't tell Eric anything, damn it, but I loved it anyway. My orgasm rocked me against the post as I felt him violently shudder and jerk inside me.

Gradually I became aware of my surroundings, the repetitive ding of the Corvette's open door seeping into my consciousness, the interior light haloing through the blackness, the sound of the frogs by a pond, the smell of the night, Joe Montgomery's brown and white milk cow Guinevere staring at us lazily from about five feet away. Eric pulled his jeans back up and fastened them with one hand, the other leaning against the fence while he looked at me.

He kissed me then, slow and thoroughly. I gently put my arms around his neck, wanting him to know I hadn't been angry with him, just the situation. Somehow, though, I knew that he understood this, and that our coupling had helped his anger too. He pulled my clothes back over my nakedness as I tried to stand, then cradled me to his chest and carried me back to the car. Guinevere, sensing the show was over, turned in slight bovine disgust and loped away, her tail swishing slowly back and forth as she disappeared into the darkness.

"You okay, my lover," Eric asked as he slid me into the seat. "Other than the fact that half that fence post must be buried in my butt," I laughed as I gingerly settled in the seat, "I think I'm doing fine." He laughed and kissed the top of my head. "I'll take care of it for you," he said. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

"Yes, at the house," I replied, and so he drove me back.

We went to my bedroom and I jumped in the shower while Eric looked for the items he needed. I got out and dried off. Eric waited for me on the bed. It was somewhat embarrassing to lie naked over his lap while he examined my ass, but there was really no other way to do it.

"There must be twenty splinters in here, Sookie," he admonished. "Your behind has taken quite a beating this week. You should have said something when it was happening."

"I didn't care," I said, and we joked as he removed the splinters with a pair of tweezers and doctored me, and then spread antibiotic ointment over my bottom. I was reminded of Dallas at the same time he was, and we looked knowingly at each other. "We have some memories, don't we lover," he teased. He did not laugh or smile when he examined my neck, biting his finger twice and taking a long time to tend to it. He grabbed the roll of gauze and headed for the kitchen while I took the opportunity pull on a nightgown.

A few minutes later he returned to the bedroom door. He stood in the doorway, and I took a moment to just admire him, the shirtless torso, gleaming hair, the perfect bone structure.

"I cut my hand and soaked that gauze with my blood, then placed it in a Tupperware container and put it in your freezer," he said as he walked to the bed and sat down. "If your neck still looks bad tomorrow, thaw it and bathe it in the blood some more."

I could not help but feel touched at the bizarre but thoughtful action. I knew he had become aroused again while I was on his lap, so I pulled him by the hand to me and kissed him softly on his lips, then his forehead and ears. I took a special amount of time on the curved line just to the right of his mouth, the one that shows his age a little when he is fatigued or worried, the one that showed now. I tried to smooth it with my fingers, and then kissed his chin and neck. He moaned a bit, and I raised my face back up to his, sitting in his lap and resting my chin against his forehead. He buried his head in my cleavage, and we held each other for just a minute.

This time I made it just for Eric, and it was me working so hard to please him, and I tried my best. I felt incredible warmth between us, and a strong sense of completeness that had never been there before, and I reveled in it. Afterwards, I lay running my hand along his arm, and watched his body openly. For some reason I felt I had a right that didn't exist before. "We still tight?" I mumbled after a while, rubbing my face in his chest. "Yes, my lover," he rumbled back, his arms pulling me close, closer, closest. "I believe we might just be tighter now."

Good to know. I had just a moment of pure, unadulterated joy before Eric's embrace and demeanor changed a bit. "I'm calling Niall tomorrow," he said, looking down at me hard faced, eyes and mouth set. No point in arguing.

"Why, when I've already talked to him?"

"He needs to understand some things. You are a human. He obviously doesn't quite know how to deal in your world."

"I will deal with Niall," I said, defiantly but not harshly, I did not want to ruin our new accord, but I didn't want Eric meddling at the same time. "I will tell him I will not tolerate his interference."

"What have you got to threaten him with, Sookie? Your company? Your affection? Neither one is going to be very effective if you are dead."

My blood chilled. "You think he's going to kill me?"

"Not directly, no. But he has many enemies, he's getting old and I'm worried about his judgment. Plus he just doesn't seem to care enough to learn how to treat you properly, and that bothers me."

"He needs to know there will be repercussions," Eric continued firmly. "He needs to know there is someone to answer to when he does not act in your best interests, that I am your mate."

"Mate," I rolled the word around on my tongue. "You know, I don't think I care for that word, _mate_. Like we're animals, that _mate_," I said with distaste.

"We are animals that mate," he glared. "Case in point, what we just did down in the middle of the road."

"You know, I know you think I get hung up on the verbage," I said, "but that's a little inaccurate, I think."

"What do you want me to call you, instead of my mate? Would you rather I call you my lady?" he countered.

I shuddered, and then grimaced. "I tell you what, I'm going to be incredibly generous here, and let you in on a little secret about me." I leaned forward conspiratorially. "If you ever want to get rid of me, instantly and painlessly, with no mess no fuss, this is all you have to do."

His eyes opened wide and he leaned forward also. "Just call me your lady and wear some of those demi-boots from the seventies, you know what I'm talking about?" He raised his eyebrows inquisitively. "Those little leather ankle boots men used to wear, that zip on the side?" He nodded, obviously intrigued.

"Just call me your lady, or even better, your old lady, and wear those boots. I'll leave. Right then. I swear, I won't even come back for my purse. If I leave anything at your house, you can just Fed Ex it to me the next day." I looked at him solemnly, nodding my head to make my point. He tried to return my look, and then burst out laughing.

"I'm giving you a get out of jail free card, here, buddy. Use it wisely." I fixed Eric with a withering stare. "If Bill had only known about this loophole, it would have saved us all a lot of time and heartache." Eric did not stop guffawing, much to my chagrin.

"Sookie, I did not wear those god-awful boots when they were in fashion," he said, nearly wheezing, which for a vampire is some kind of feat. "Where do you suppose I find a pair now?"

I couldn't believe my ears. "Oh, so you're looking, now that I've told you that you can get rid of me by wearing them?" I asked, pretending to be outraged. "What, are you just going to keep a spare pair in your closet in case you need them?"

"All right now, my lady," he said. "Don't get yourself worked up." I punched him in the arm, as hard as I could. He frowned but laughed. "You were born in the eighties, how do you even know about those boots?"

"Hey baby, this is Bon Temps," I retorted. "Men wore those damn things around here a good twenty years after they were officially out of style. And I'm only halfway joking. It's some kind of psychological trigger with me. I honestly think if a man I was involved with stood in front of me, in all seriousness, wearing those boots and calling me his old lady, I would have a hard time sticking around."

Eric still looked like he didn't quite believe me. "I really appreciate the tip." He played with a lock of my hair, and then his face became serious and still. "And here I was, thinking the most sure-fire way to get rid of you would be to tell you I love you and ask you to make a long-term commitment."

I felt the bottom fall out of my stomach. I looked up at him slowly, fear and dread, as well as another emotion I couldn't quite put a name to, flooding my expression. His eyes danced with merriment at my reaction. I stared at him in disbelief. "Gotcha," he chuckled triumphantly, an infuriating smirk spreading across his face.

Then I really punched him, and we both fell down on the bed laughing. Soon we settled in together under the covers. I couldn't help but stew over his mocking words, and I knew that he did it on purpose, knowing it would bother me, leaving me wondering, wanting --- oohhh, he's smooth, he is. I made a mental note to call Pam next chance I got to see what dirt she'd give me to torment him with, I had to get something, and she had to know of some incident or situation that I could use. A thousand years. There had to be something he didn't want me to know, some way to push his buttons unmercifully. I do love our lighter moments so, and they are too few and far between.

Eric stayed with me until I fell asleep, although I informed him archly that he had serviced me quite well and could leave at any time. About an hour before dawn I felt a cool kiss on my temple as he passed me and drifted toward the door, and I smiled in my slumber.

*******

_**Where's the plot? There will be plot, I promise. I almost didn't write this chapter, and went right into the fairy thing, that was the original plan - but, I just couldn't let Eric go, hell, he was already in Bon Temps, and things are about to get hairy, so……one more night of lovin', hope you don't mind. - misscyn**_


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N – Sorry this took a few days longer than I thought it would. Thank you so much for all the words of encouragement and reviews, I believe Chapter 18 may have set a record for this story! **

**Chapter 19 **

I decided to go into work the next day. I just felt like I should and I wanted to clear any air that needed clearing with Alcide. My neck looked pretty good but I cut off a piece of Eric's gauze and rubbed it on the wounds as soon as I woke anyway. By the time I showered and got dressed the marks were faded quite a bit further, smart vampire. I wore a button down blouse with a high collar so there was no danger of them showing. I didn't need to face any crap about _that _before I explained Eric and I were now together.

So, even though I would regularly work from home on Tuesday I drove to Shreveport early. I got there at 7:45 before anyone else. It felt good to sit at my desk and try to act normal, at least for a few minutes. I could hear people arriving after a little while, and not too long after eight Alcide's head popped in my door.

"Morning, Sook," he said, obviously surprised to see me there. "Thought you were off until tomorrow."

"Well, I feel better, and I wanted to come on in, at least get some work to start on," I said. "How are you doing?" Was the whole Were thing just a couple days ago?

"I'm doing great." Alcide replied, then became very conciliatory, asking me about my injuries and such. I could tell he was avoiding more sensitive topics, so I jumped right in.

"Alcide, are you mad at me? Am I in trouble here?"

"For what, Sookie?" he seemed genuinely puzzled.

"Come on Alcide, I contacted PETA, which I know you found insulting, and then there's what Pam did," here I hesitated at the expression on his face. "I need to know you aren't holding it against me.'

"No, cher, I am not mad at you. Far from it. You saved the pack a whole lot of trouble, I'm sure you saved some lives. I can only congratulate you for what you did," he said sincerely. "But you know it is only a temporary reprieve. The Fellowship will strike again. However, now that Newlin's wife is on to what the Fellowship may be considering – well, let's say that can only help, maybe even buy us a good deal of time in order to more thoroughly fight back, which is what we really need.

"In addition, your ability to think outside the lines may continue to have positive effects. It had never occurred to us that we could actually use our two-natured abilities to our advantage – in effect, benefit from animal rights protection as well as civil protection under human law. It's a powerful concept, and we have you to thank for it. In other words, you done good, Sookie." He looked at me approvingly, and I smiled, a little abashedly.

"Look in your desk drawer," he instructed. "I put your first paycheck in there, and included a little bonus for your work Saturday."

He waved away my protests. "You earned it, Sookie. Besides, I hear we have competition." He raised his eyebrows at this. Apparently he knew of de Castro's offer. Our eyes met. He waited, expectantly.

"Alcide, as long as you're cool with me, I don't think I'm going any where any time soon," I said after a pause. He looked relieved.

"You do need to know Eric and I are together now," I stated firmly. Alcide sighed.

"I figured as much," he admitted. "And as far as what Pam did, you forget about that too. But if I ever get a chance to humiliate that she-devil," he grinned wickedly here, "I will do it."

"Good luck with that," I laughed. "She's quite a force to be reckoned with." Alcide nodded.

Just then Lance came in and stood in the doorway. He looked great in a v-neck celery green sweater and jeans. He was holding a box of Aunt Sally's pralines, my favorite, which he set down on my desk.

"Hey, Sookie, how are you?" he asked. "All recovered already?"

The three of us chatted a bit. At one point I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and they both looked worried. "I heard you got a bad bruise from that fall in the pit," Lance said.

I looked at him blankly for a minute. Thank God I didn't blurt out, 'No, the bruise is fine, I'm sore now from splinters I got while screwing my boyfriend up against a fencepost,' which is what I was thinking. I managed a weak smile instead.

The rest of the day went by pretty swiftly. I went by Fangtasia on the way home to have a drink with Eric, but he was tied up in his office yelling at some vendor who had double billed him, so I just went out to the bar to make my own drink. After a few minutes Pam walked up to me wearing a pink and green Lilly Pulitzer shift and cardigan; obviously she hadn't dressed for the evening shift yet.

"Well, hello Sookie," she said brightly. "I hear fairies are after you now. Odds in Vegas are you won't be around this time next year."

"Gee, thanks Pam," I returned. "Yes, I'm sure I'll die soon, and you Supes will most likely be the cause. Now, more importantly, I need you to help me play a practical joke on Eric."

"Play a practical joke on my master," Pam spoke slowly, cherishing each syllable of every word as if it were dipped in 24 karat gold. "I do believe I'm in. What do you have in mind?"

"That's the problem. I got nothing," I said. "He plays me all the time and I never get him back good enough. You gotta help me, give me some material. I'm dying here."

"Sookie, for the last several years, you've been all the ammunition I need," she replied smoothly. "This wouldn't have anything to do with Eric's request that I locate some hideous archaic disco-era men's footwear for him, would it?"

I gritted my teeth and narrowed my eyes. "I'm sure I have no idea," I snapped. "Are you going to help me or not?"

Pam looked thoughtful, toying with her opera-length pink pearl necklace. "Come on woman, you are the definition of evil and you know it," I said. "You know something. Spill."

"You're going to have to give me a little time, Sookie," she said. "It has to be just right, and I don't want him to be able to trace it back to me, at least not immediately. But I'll work on it, okay?"

Just then Eric walked out of the office, looking fine in a pale blue patterned silk shirt and dark gray pants. I temporarily gave up on my conversation with Pam and turned my attention to him. All of a sudden I had an impulse. For the last couple of days I'd started getting spring fever in the worst way. Spring comes early in Bon Temps, with the forsythia blooming and daffodils poking through the dead leaves, and it always gets me hyped up.

"Hey, can you knock off for a couple hours and go to Wal Mart with me to buy vegetable seeds?"

Eric looked at me like I had suggested we join the Communist Party. I could not help but notice how blue his shirt made his eyes appear.

"Vegetable seeds? What for, lover?"

"It's almost spring, I want a garden this year. I haven't had one since Gran died."

"They sell vegetables at the grocery stores. I have seen them."

"No, Eric, I want to grow them myself. From seed."

He looked at me quizzically. "Do you really need to _farm_, lover?" The word 'farm' was pronounced with particular derision. "I thought the Weres were paying you well."

"It's not farming, Eric, it's a garden. Lots of people do it. It's fun. You'll see."

Eric balked a little but I insisted. He reluctantly agreed to go with me, making it quite obvious he thought it would be anything but fun. He suggested we take the Corvette, although when I told him we would be buying large bags of dirt he changed his mind.

"I want tomatoes, and cucumbers, onions and okra, and peppers, eggplant, and watermelon," I hit him on his arm, "Oh, and I need to make a list." I scurried in my purse for a piece of paper. "Have you spoken with Niall yet?" I asked as we got into the car. He scowled deeply.

"Yes, I just got off the phone with him, and, he may call you and tell you I lost my temper," he said. "Because I did."

"What did you say?"

"Among other things, that what he did was the most piss-poor excuse for a gift I'd ever heard of, and that if he has any more brilliant ideas about what to get you in the future, perhaps he should run them by me first. Also, if he thinks you are lonely, he should get up off his scrawny fairy ass and come see you next time, and not send a naked spell-casting gigolo in his stead."

I swallowed hard. I tried to picture Niall's face when Eric referred to his 'scrawny fairy ass' but my imagination simply fell short. "So you told him we are together now."

"Yes lover, and in light of our conversation, he did not exactly give us his blessing," Eric said, glancing sideways at me and lifting my fingers to his mouth. "But he does know now that we are involved, and he agreed to keep me abreast of any new developments concerning your safety."

"Any news on that front?"

"He thinks the fairies around your house may be Dermot and some of his crew."

"My grandfather's brother."

"Yes, he's been spotted in this area. I want you to stay at the cabin. Niall said it's warded against all those of ill-intent. It won't let Dermot in if he intends to hurt you. I'll send Bubba to guard the perimeter and keep an eye on your house at night if we are not together also."

I groaned but I didn't want to think about Dermot just yet, and lord knows I love Bubba, but sometimes when he's supposedly 'guarding' me I wonder who's watching who. To be fair, though, I had to admit, he had saved me more than once, and as a lookout, he certainly took his job seriously.

."How did it go with Alcide today? " Eric changed the subject.

"Everything's fine, he's not mad, and oh, I got a five-hundred dollar bonus," I said. "Apparently someone told him about de Castro's offer."

"And what have you decided about that offer?" Eric asked carefully, watching my face as I answered.

I paused for a moment. "Eric, you know I care about you and Pam," I said slowly. "And I will help you any way I can. This is not about you. But the jury's still out on de Castro. Right now, I feel safer working for the Weres, and since it's my first real job, I really, really want to do it right." I held my breath when I finished talking, waiting for his answer.

The silence was deafening. I stole a look at Eric's profile, noting how his huge frame dwarfed the seat, how his muscles showed through the thin material of his shirt. His jaw set and a mixture of emotions crossed his face. After a few tense minutes Eric looked at me.

"I understand," he said stoically. I noticed a tiny muscle twitching in his lower cheek. "I do hope that one day in the not too far distant future you will feel safe enough to make the switch." I let all my breath out in a whoosh.

We talked quite pleasantly after that. I got so excited when we arrived at the garden department I could hardly contain myself.

I read each seed packet carefully, and then directed Eric to the paper goods aisle to purchase five-ounce Dixie cups. I paid for the items after a brief argument and we loaded up the car. I chattered on about the seeds and my garden and Eric continued to regard me with a bemused expression. We decided to go to my house and he could fly back as the weather was clear. When we got to the house I immediately changed into an old pair of jeans and a tee shirt. I spread newspaper on the kitchen table and floor and instructed Eric on how far to fill up the cups, while I went through the seed packets quite studiously.

"This seems like a lot of work, Sookie," he observed, although he dutifully filled the cups two-thirds full. "And it is messy."

"Don't be a wuss." That earned me a scary look. "Haven't you ever had a garden?"

"I have owned homes and employed gardeners who maintained ornamentals, yes."

I snorted.

"No, I have never worked in dirt. I was a warrior, and then I have been a merchant, and or a business man, most of my existence," he admitted. "That was left to the man servants and women folk. I remember fields mostly of grain, maybe some carrots and turnips. I did help my mother pull up carrots a few times as a very small child. Are you going to grow carrots?"

"No, carrots are hard to grow," I said regretfully. "How else did you spend your time as a child?"

"My father was a merchant and a fishmonger. As soon as I was big enough, maybe seven or eight years old, he took me out on the boats, fishing and delivering goods to neighboring villages," he said.

"What did you eat beside fish?"

"We gathered nuts and berries a lot, I remember that. I hunted a little, deer, wild boar, mostly." Eric looked like he hadn't thought about these subjects in a really long time.

I began opening seed packets and began pushing the seeds into the dirt, carefully marking each cup.

"Well, then, you've missed a lot of fun." I glanced around at the room. My kitchen looked like a third-grade science project.

He leaned up against the counter and folded his arms against his chest. "This is pleasurable to you," he said, sweeping his arm over the table.

I nodded. "Yes, it is. It creates an experience in which…" I quoted a book here, not sure which one, "an experience in which pleasure can edify."

Eric leered at me. "I have no problem with the edification of pleasure," he said smokily. I rolled my eyes. Just my luck to be with the only guy in the world who could make gardening dirty in a sexual way.

I threw a handful of garden soil at him. He frowned and moved quickly to the side. "Do me a favor and go take off that silk shirt," I said. "We've got some work to do." He humphed and begrudgingly headed for the stairs. A few minutes later he was back in a tee shirt and jeans, and sat on the floor with me. I became very excited at the idea that gardening was something Eric had never done, and I could actually teach him, show him something new. I began lecturing on the merits of a vegetable garden, not guarding my words or worrying about looking stupid for once. He appeared to pay very close attention to what I was saying, even if a somewhat indulgent smile played at the corners of his mouth at the same time.

I continued on, expounding and gesticulating wildly, and he seemed to become even more fascinated the more animated I became. I spoke of feeling the sun on my skin and how it felt to have my hands buried up to my wrists in the dirt almost reverently, about how I loved the thrill of watching the tiny plants blossom, and the little fruits grow.

"We saved small fish from our excursions for the planting, I remember that," he said, brightening at the memory. "The servants would sow the wheat, in trenches, and then place the fish over them. The fish would rot and nourish the seed."

"Native Americans did that too," I said. "We learned that in school. Some people use fish meal nowadays for fertilizer. But we're not putting any dead fish in my garden." Unless it's Berta, I added silently, and then giggled at my own naughtiness. Eric continued to fill cups in silence, and I marveled at how dexterously and meticulously he worked with his hands.

You wouldn't think any kind of inner peace could be achieved by something as simple as sitting cross-legged on the floor in my kitchen, pushing watermelon seeds into Dixie cups of dark, moist dirt with a large undead Viking, but that's exactly what happened. Eric and I had fought and bled and screwed like there's no tomorrow together, but this was new, and it felt amazingly intimate and just right somehow. When we finished I couldn't help but beam like an idiot at him. I guess Oprah would say we had a moment, and that's what it was alright. I wondered what he was thinking. He did seem as lost in the activity as I was, which made me inexplicably happy.

Afterwards we went up to the cabin and bathed each other in the old claw foot tub. We both had dirt under our fingernails and had to scrub hard to get it out. We talked by the fire for a while before I fell asleep in Eric's arms.

The next couple of weeks went by without incident. We heard no more about the fairies, and Eric detected no fresh visits. Eric and I fell into a sort of a pattern, sometimes only seeing each other three or four times a week, but always making daily contact. We both had a lot to learn about being a couple, and he was charmingly as awkward about it as I was at some points. He said he was out of practice, and I had no doubt. Silently I wondered how long it really had been since he'd tried to have a real relationship, but I was kind of scared to ask.

I kept telling myself that it could be done; that no matter how bad it had ended up, Bill and I had established a relationship of sorts that seemed to work until he fubar'ed it, so surely Eric and I could achieve at least that level of intimacy. Hope springs eternal, and spring always gets me going, makes be believe the impossible can become reality. I was willing to give it a shot, and amazingly, it appeared he felt the same way.

I had bought so many seeds I had trays spread every where, up at the cabin, all over the kitchen and back porch, some even in my living room. I babied the plants and took vigilant care of them. Eric took an interest, even though I suspected that it was mainly because he enjoyed watching me get so worked up. He did check them every time he came over, and we sometimes found ourselves hovering over the trays like new parents over a crib. I found something so satisfying in the process with him; not only were we working on something together but it was, again, me showing him, which was just mind-blowing in its own right.

I wondered at times if he was humoring me with his supposed lack of knowledge. That got me to thinking perhaps he was also pretending to be 'rusty' at relationships, for my benefit. At first I got really irritated at the concept, then after I mentioned it to Madelyn she pointed out that if he cared enough to feign ignorance, just to make me more comfortable, then I should probably let it go. So I did. It wasn't easy, but I did.

My job progressed nicely, even though both at home and at work, I had the uneasy feeling that I was moving about in the eye of a storm. When in Shreveport I ate lunch with either Madelyn or Lance, and those friendships were coming along. I started my online classes through Tulane, which were extremely gratifying. Eric pored through my text books on evenings we spent at the cabin, sometimes drilling me for tests, and I was astounded once again at the depths of this man I hardly knew. How he maintained a thirst for knowledge after all these centuries I could never comprehend. As far as the sex—well, he certainly wasn't rusty in that department, and what can I say, I felt blessed. He blessed the hell out of me on a right regular basis, much to my delight.

We were going very carefully emotionally, both of us, tiptoeing around each other, not making any big, sudden movements. Sometimes it felt like walking on eggshells. We were moving ahead, however, albeit at a snail's pace. From time to time I would detect that curve to the right of his mouth deepening, giving me pause. For the most part, I was happy, and I think he was too. Something big hovered, though, at the horizon. We waited.

So it was during this period, late on a warm Saturday afternoon in mid-February, that I found myself once again sitting on the floor of the cabin, admiring my trays of seedlings in the sunlight from the open door and lost in blissful amorous thoughts of my vampire, smiling as I remembered this look, that touch, those words. A shadow cast itself over my precious shoots and leaves, interrupting my musings, and I looked up to see a man standing in the doorway.

"Hello, Sookie," he said, moving into the room. "It's so nice to find you here."

I squinted in the sunlight and moved closer in order to see him better. He appeared to be middle aged, dressed nicely, handsome. Something very familiar about his eyes.

"And you would be? " I asked, startled. Where is my cell phone? Bubba's not here yet, Eric's not awake, the sun hasn't set….

"Don't worry," he assured me, holding out his hand. I stepped back. "You and I are related. Niall is my father."

"So you are Dermot?" I asked hurriedly, panic seeping in. I tried to inch unobtrusively away, looking for a weapon out of the corners of my eyes.

He smiled slowly, looking me directly in the eyes.

"No, Sookie," he said finally. "I am Fintan. Dermot is dead."

*******************************************************************************

**_No, I'm not crazy, at least not in regard to this story. Remember, reviews keep me writing, so if you want to know how this is possible...you know what to do!_**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N Thank you once again for all the kind reviews, they really do inspire me to keep going. And thank you especially to TeamEricSookie from the LTAE 28 thread, who knew Sookie's father's full name right off the top of her head, without looking in a book. Pretty amazing, huh? I hope to get the next chapter posted by Saturday, not promising, but I will try!**

**Chapter 20 **

I jumped to my feet and blinked, several times. He continued to regard me with interest.

"Fintan is dead," I said. "Who are you really, and what do you want?"

He walked in the cabin and strode to the sofa. "Have a seat," he said, indicating the chair next to him as if this were his own living space; then I remembered he may very well have felt that way at one time. "You and I have much to discuss."

Reluctantly I did as he requested. I gaped at him openly. He reminded me of my father and Niall combined. His eyes were the same shade as my dad's, and his hair. His features were also similar. The whole situation was disconcerting as all get out, and then him looking so much like my father - well, it threw me for a loop.

"Niall said Fintan is dead," I stately flatly. "Is he lying to me?"

The man shook his head. "No, Sookie, Niall really believes I am dead, or he would never have contacted you."

"How is this possible?"

I noticed his clothing was beautiful, yet other-worldly at the same time, the shirt a shimmering dark blue, the beige jacket and pants highly tailored, the shoes a leather so fine they almost didn't look real. He smoothed his cuffs as he studied his hands for a moment, and then looked back up at me.

"Dermot was a little like the evil twin between the two of us," he said. "He had many enemies, and when things got tough for him he pretended to be me when he thought he could get away with it. He did it his whole life. I've been imprisoned and tortured more than a few times over the years for his transgressions. He always thought it was funny, but I never found it to be very amusing." He gave a wry smile here.

"In short, he was pretending to be me when he was killed. And for reasons too complicated to go into right now, I decided to let everyone believe it was me."

"How has Niall not found out about this?"

"Niall and Dermot have been estranged for many years. After my supposed death, he still would have no reason to see Dermot.

"I have stayed out of the fae realm and the country away from anyone who might tell him I have been seen. Also, I look so much like Dermot that I could pass for him, at least to someone who didn't know him well. But I think the charade is nearing its end, as my contacts tell me there are rumors that I am still alive. This is why I have come to you."

I sat back in the chair, closing my eyes. This was a lot to digest.

"You look just like her," he said softly.

I opened my eyes.

"Adele." He said. "You are so much like her. You favor quite a bit, although the fairy in you is strong. But the way you talk, and your demeanor, your spirit," he smiled wistfully. "You are very much like Adele."

"I thought you would be, even though I haven't seen you since before your father died." He looked sad at these words.

I sat silently for a minute. "Why are you here?"

He took a deep breath and looked out the window. "Several factors have combined to bring me here today. The supernatural world is in a state of unrest. Certain upcoming events – may be about to put you at grave peril. I have been visiting for several weeks, when you have not been home, to strengthen the wards here and at Adele's house, although I stopped when it appeared my visits were detected by a vampire I once met years ago." He looked at me questioningly. I decided to offer nothing; I did not know this man who claimed to be my grandfather, and I certainly did not know his agenda.

"I have several vampire friends," I said noncommittally.

We regarded each other in silence.

"When are you going to tell Niall? Don't you think this is going to come as a shock to him, to find out you're alive, and Dermot is dead?"

"Yes, it will," he said sincerely. "But I think he already suspects. He will be shocked, and he will grieve. Everyone always said I was his favorite son, but the fact of the matter is, he and Dermot were very much alike.

"Remember, Sookie, I am half human, and your father was three quarters, but Niall is all fairy. Not a drop of humanity in him. He is my father, but I have to warn you. You can't trust him."

That pissed me off. Okay, maybe Niall did give me a sorry, ill-conceived gift for Christmas, but he meant well, and he'd been nice to me for the short time I knew him.

"Why did you keep Niall from me? And why didn't my grandmother want you around when I was growing up? My parents died, and I was a lonely child." I choked on the words, staring at my hands. I tried to compose myself. "I could have used some family."

"You had a grandfather, Sookie, or at least a man who wanted to be one to you," he said gently. "Adele didn't want me to interfere. Ultimately, being attached to the Supe world did not seem like a good idea at the time. In hindsight- well, let's just say, we did not know how strong your little streak of fae would play out in you. Your father, Linda, and Jason – all seemed to meld well into the human world. You've been the exception, not the rule. If I had to do it again, I would have brought you out of the human world as a small child, but that opportunity has passed. Adele told me how much you suffered for your abilities. I wanted to bring you out. She insisted – though I think as you grew older, she realized that you were more other-worldly than she had thought.

"Corbett was my son, your aunt Linda my daughter, and I wasn't allowed contact with them either. It distressed me to no end, but I knew it was for the best. You were much more human than fae, and it would have been unfair to try to bring you into my world, without Adele, and she simply would not go."

I stood up and paced around the room. Here I was again, stuck alone in a room with a fairy (well, half-fairy) who may or may not be lying to me. He did look like my father, but then again, Preston did grow fur on his arm, and I was getting really sick of this shit.

"How do I know you are who you say you are? How do I know you're not Dermot, telling me you're Fintan, or just another fairy trying to fool me?"

He frowned. "First of all, Sookie, the wards would not have let me in if I intended to harm you," he pointed out. "What other fairy has tried to fool you?"

I shrugged my shoulders. I was so not getting into that now. He continued to stare at me intently, as if trying to memorize my appearance.

"I'm going to need a minute here," I said. I went into the bathroom and shut the door. I hated to act helpless and call Eric, but when it comes to Supe crap I've had to realize I just don't know all the rules yet. I texted Eric 'Man sez he is Fintan showed up at cabin 30 min ago call me' then washed my face and stared into the mirror for a few minutes before I went back into the sitting area.

I sat back down. He regarded me for a moment, then reached in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, carefully unfolding it. Lying there in the middle lay a Brownie pin – not any Brownie pin, but my Brownie pin, from when I was a little girl and joined the Girl Scouts.

"The last time I saw you, you had just gotten this pin. You were proud to have been made part of the troop, and you came up to me and shouted, 'I'm a Brownie,' you were so thrilled. I was horrified. Brownies are short, dark, mischievous creatures. No granddaughter of mine is a brownie. Adele thought it was hysterical I got so offended. She left the pin up here for me, years later, with a note." I studied it closer. It was my pin all right, bent, with the color rubbing off, just the way mine had been.

"There is really such a creature as a brownie?" I asked.

"Yes, and they are quite devious, although they might help you with your housework if they like you," he said with a smile. "They love the outdoors, and the woods," he pointed to my seedlings. "They might even help you with your gardening."

"Aw, I want a brownie," I said, attempting a little levity to lighten the mood, it was way intense. I guess I still looked doubtful, because he continued to speak.

"I used to read to you, up here, you know. In this very chair." He then pulled out a time-worn copy of Robert Frost's poetry from the same jacket pocket. "Fire and Ice," he said softly. '_Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice, from what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire_….'

The room started to swim as I was transported back and saw myself, sitting in the lap of a younger version of this man, as he read that poem to me. A thinner Gran, with darker hair and a much more youthful appearance, smiled at us from the kitchen in the vision. I tried to steady myself, but the memory had been long buried, and stirred things deep within. The haziness threatened to overtake me, but I held on.

"Mr. Big Ant," I whispered incredulously. "You're Mr. Big Ant." He smiled, looking me warmly in the face. "Yes... I'd forgotten, you couldn't say Brigant. You did call me Mr. Big Ant, Sookie."

I tried to find something in my mind that I could hold onto. "Why are you here?"

"We have much to discuss, Sookie. Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night? In Shreveport?"

"At the Supe restaurant?"

"There is more than one," he chuckled. I described the one Niall took me to, and he nodded in recognition. "That one is a little too public," he said, and gave me another address. I noticed the sun beginning to set. "I'll meet you there at seven-thirty," he said, and just like that, he was gone. I didn't even hear a pop.

Ten minutes later Eric darkened my door. I was sitting on the floor again, staring into space. I looked up long enough to see Eric looking as handsome as ever, in a dark sea green fitted tee and jeans, his hair pulled back and braided in one of the leather ties I bought him weeks ago.

"He had my Brownie pin," I said haplessly.

Eric looked confused, his eyebrows furrowed. "Sookie, what are you talking about?' he asked, his voice a little tense. "How long has he been gone?"

"About ten minutes. I was a Brownie when I was little, and he knew it," I explained, as if that made everything clear.

He frowned. "You are not making any sense. A brownie? Brownies are little jackasses," Eric proclaimed. "They are disgusting short creatures who steal food and pinch you in your sleep if your house is dirty. You were most certainly not a brownie."

"It's a girl's club humans have for their female children," I said. "Not real brownies, although I didn't know until today that there was any such thing." Jeeez. "Did a brownie ever get after you?" I asked curiously.

"One did try to get into one of my homes years ago. He did not know I was a vampire, so I was not asleep. Of course I had no food, and my house was well kept, so he had no reason to be there at all. He was a stupid brownie. He didn't have enough blood to shake a stick at."

"You drained a brownie?" I asked, horrified.

"Well, what else was I supposed to do with him," he asked irritably. "They aren't good for anything. Not that I enjoyed it. Their blood tastes like burnt licorice."

And even though both Eric and Mr. Big Ant (I wasn't ready to call him grandfather or even Fintan yet) had explained a different type of brownie to me, I got a mental image of Eric sinking his fangs into the neck of Hannah Burninski, one of the little girls in my troop, her big brown eyes wide in terror and her little brown pixie cap sliding off her blond pigtailed head. Okay, well, apparently my head was playing tricks with all this new information. I needed to focus.

"Sookie," Eric said, carefully, too carefully, "What did he want?"

I turned around and sighed. "I don't know Eric," I admitted. "He sounded like there might be trouble ahead, and he wanted to meet me for dinner tomorrow night." I gave him the address and he nodded his head, recognizing it. "I will take you like I did with Niall," he said firmly. "I won't stay for your dinner, but I will see you safely there and make sure it is him. I will know him if I see him again." I nodded.

Eric's eyes glowed, like they always did when I agreed with him. It made him so happy. Too bad I couldn't do it more often.

"You look like a gypsy," he remarked, taking in my appearance.

I looked down. I hadn't even thought about what I had been wearing when I met my supposed grandfather for the first time after all these years. I had on an old handkerchief skirt, ankle length, in a purple paisley pattern, with a peasant style purple top. My feet were bare. I stood up and slid on a pair of flip flops. "Come with me," I said, holding out my hand to Eric. He took it and followed me outside. I needed to unwind. It was still warm even though the sun had gone down; sometimes global warming just feels like your friend.

We walked silently to the creek. A big, bright moon lit up the sky. I had paid Jason and Hoyt some of my bonus money the previous weekend to reinforce the huge oak swing my Stackhouse great-grandfather had built all those years ago, and to replace the old rope with a super heavy duty new one. Both the swing and the tree looked like they belonged to giants; they were so big, looming over the creek. The warm weather and the work Lance and I had done back in January had helped the creek immensely, and the water flowed freely now.

"Push me, please," I directed as I sat in the swing. Eric looked skeptical, but placed his hands firmly in between my shoulders and pushed me. "Higher," I said, and he obliged, starting to smile a little, he did love to play. We continued for a few minutes, him pushing me higher and higher until I was flying through the air, and I could see over the tops of the trees down below. I was gasping and laughing. "Stop, please" I managed to get out, but he kept going a few more times before stopping, just to torment me. Slowly I came to a lazy halt.

"Now come here." He grinned, guessing my intent. "You won't need those pants," I said, and he grinned bigger as he stripped naked, taking his time so I could watch in the moonlight.

"I like the way you think, lover," he murmured as he slid into the swing, his legs on either side of me, pulling me into his lap. I spread my legs as he pulled off my panties, his hands busying themselves beneath my skirt, which I hitched up to my waist. He pulled the peasant blouse down off my shoulders, and my strapless bra pushed easily down to my waist along with my skirt.

Still holding me, Eric leaned back and pushed off from the ground, and we started swinging just as he entered me. I gasped and then sighed, leaning my head against his shoulder. He pumped me in motion with the swing and we went back and forth together, the force of gravity and motion working with us. Our hair whipped in the wind we created, and it was such an easy joining we had going, nothing rough or jarring, just sweet and deep, but oh so smooth. I loved the way everything he had filled me so completely, almost too much but not too much, perfect of course, this is Eric we're talking about, after all.

His mouth trailed kisses along my chest and nipples, stopping to suckle lightly then harder, and I rapturously caressed every inch of his skin I could, slowly and methodically, then faster but never losing rhythm, never disturbing our pace. My mouth found his and I was caught a little off guard at the intensity of his kiss, how it had almost a desperate, frenzied quality.

He bit me on the shoulder, drawing deeply before he buried his face in my chest as he came, reaching down below my waist to take me with him. We continued to sail through the air as the aftershocks moved us. Slowly, we drifted to a pause, the swing still moving slightly beneath our weight as I watched the dust settle underneath our feet. I looked up to see him regarding me heatedly, that smile at the corner of his mouth.

He started to say something, and then stopped, kissing me on my forehead. "You do know how to amuse me, my lover," he said a little roughly. I got the impression he had wanted to say something else.

"That's why you keep me around," I replied, trying to make my voice light, but not quite making it. We were silent for a few more minutes. I knew he had to leave so reluctantly I tried to move off him first. He held me back and kissed me again.

"Come to Fangtasia with me tonight," he said darkly, urgently, in that voice I find so hard to resist. I hesitated, thinking for a minute. I really needed to get some things done around here and at the house, to get ready for the work week. "How about I spend the night with you tomorrow, after the dinner instead?" I asked, regret in my tone.

He nodded, but I could tell he was a little disappointed, as was I. We dressed and he walked me back inside. I took a brush and fixed his hair, and let him brush the tangles out of mine. He then left, but not before grabbing me up and laying another mind-blowing one on me just for good measure, just to leave me wanting more. I started working around the cabin and tried not to think about how hard it was getting to tell him goodbye.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N I've noticed some authors mention theme songs for their fics. I was listening to Jason Mraz's 'I'm Yours' while writing this chapter. I've also listened to a lot of Regina Spektor's music along the way, especially 'Fidelity,' it just fits Sookie too well. **

**Chapter 21**

I went down to the house Sunday morning to have breakfast and visit with my roomies. About 10 o'clock I answered a knock on the door to find a midget standing on my front porch. About three and a half feet tall, he had the face of James Cagney, only the skin a little darker, hair a little wilder, and rather scruffy in appearance. His ears were pointy, kind of like Niall's but much bigger and more exaggerated.

"I'm Wizno," he said without preamble, a huge grin splitting his wide face. He looked kind of demented when he smiled, like a fifty-something version of that kid on the cover of Mad Magazine. "Mr. Brigant sent me."

"Mr. Brigant sent you?" I repeated, tipping my cup and spilling my coffee. "Which Mr. Brigant? What for?"

"The only Mr. Brigant I know. Are you Sookie?" I nodded. "He said you wanted a brownie. I'm your brownie," he said, that grin never leaving his face.

"What?" I repeated again, dully. What is he talking about? I went over the previous afternoon's conversation in my head, oh no, these Supes are going to be the death of me.

"I think there's been a mistake…" I began.

"Nope. He said you were his kin, and you needed me to help with your garden and stuff," he said.

Right then Octavia walked out of the kitchen, also carrying a cup of coffee. She took one look at Wizno, said "Shit," and headed back towards her room.

"I owe Mr. Brigant a big favor," he said. "Plus he's going to pay me. He told me to do whatever you needed me to do." He turned around and motioned toward the yard. I noticed he was wearing a pair of the smallest, and grimiest, Carrhart overalls I had ever seen. "That your garden?" he asked, pointing to the overgrown area.

"Yes."

"Where's your ox?"

I heard a muffled guffaw from somewhere in the vicinity of Octavia's room. I frowned.

"I don't have an ox," I said. "I have a tiller. And I think you'd better wait until I talk with Mr. Brigant before you start any work around here."

"Oh, oh, he gave me a note," the little man dug in his pocket and pulled out a grimy folded white sheet of paper and handed it to me.

I gingerly took the note from it and unfolded it. The elegant script read:

'_Dear Sookie, please accept this gift as a token of my affection. You mentioned that you wanted a brownie and I happen to have one deeply in my debt. He can work for you as long as you require; I noticed when I was leaving that your garden space down at Adele's needed quite a lot of clearing and preparation before spring planting. I look forward to dining with you tonight' Yours, Mr. Big Ant _

Great, just great. I would be seeing him tonight, so I guessed the only practical thing to do would be to wait until then to discuss this. I did not want to offend my potential grandfather this early in the game.

Octavia came back around the corner. I guess she couldn't stand it any more; she did love a train wreck so. "Don't let him use the bathroom," she said. "They piss out their pointy ears. And they have sex with their…"

"Ear urination is a myth," Wizno said darkly, staring at Octavia. "We have almost exactly the same private parts and functions as humans except for the fact that we …"

"No no no no," I said. "That's fine, that's fine. I don't need to know." Wizno's demeanor lightened as he eyed Octavia appreciatively. "She's hot," he observed. "A little sassy for my taste, but we can fix that."

I tried my best to freeze-frame Octavia's expression in my mind so I could play it over and over again whenever I get depressed in the future. "Come on over here sweetie," Wizno leered, leaning forward to get a better view. His ears wiggled slightly. "Let's see what you got."

Struck speechless, for perhaps the first time in her existence, Octavia stared at Wizno indignantly for a full five seconds before she managed to harrumph and march away again.

"Do you have a hat or something?" I asked, not meaning to be rude, but seeing a midget working in my garden was going to be enough of a shock to anyone who might happen by, the ears might just push them over the edge.

"Sure," he said, whipping a dirty dark blue plaid paper-boy type cab out of his back pocket. He placed it over his head, and it did cover his ears nicely.

I figured I might as well let him work. I did need the help. Jason had always tilled the garden for Gran, albeit begrudgingly, and I guess I could do it just as well as anyone, but with my job and Eric I wasn't spending so much time at the house lately. Getting a garden ready after two missed seasons would be a lot of work. I felt a little guilty, though. "Would you mind telling me what you are being paid?" I asked, determined to reimburse my dinner host when I saw him.

"Sure, I'll tell you, I'll even show you," Wizno said, pulling a battered aluminum tin from his jacket pocket. "Mr. Brigant is paying me very well." He opened the tin and I looked in and squealed a little. It was filled with dirt and huge white worm-like wiggling things, about as big and round as my pinkie and just as long.

"Grubs," he said in satisfaction, licking his lips. "South American grubs. The best. Mr. Brigant has a direct connection. He keeps me hooked up." He picked up one of the grubs delicately and held it over his mouth with his head tilted back, and then dropped it in. He looked at me with relish as he chewed. "My grub tab is getting really large. I owe him for some other stuff too," he said a little sullenly.

Alrighty, then.

I pointed him to the shed and the tiller. He said he needed to weed-eat first, so I showed him that too. I watched him doubtfully, as he struggled with the large equipment at first, he was so short, but he really seemed to know what he was doing and got right to it after familiarizing himself with everything.

"Are you staying around here somewhere?" I said tentatively. '_Please say yes, please say yes, my roomies are going to kill me ….'_

"I have a tree," he said proudly, the way a normal person might say "I have a houseboat."

"It's about two miles from here," he continued. Good, not too close, I thought, then scolded myself. I'd always prided myself on overlooking the differences of others. This guy was just so strange, and dirty, and carried grubs in his pocket, and ate one of said grubs right in front of me….still, I needed to be compassionate, I told myself sternly.

"Well, thank you very much," I said, forcing my voice to be cheerful. "If you need anything let me know," I added, still overly polite to make up for my initial rudeness. "I have lemonade and soft drinks inside." He nodded happily, he was a cheerful little being, and got to work.

Octavia pounced on me as soon as I walked in the door. "Is he going to be around long?"

"I don't know Octavia. I'm going to talk to Mr. Brigant tonight," I said, tired already.

We heated up our then-cold brunch and started to eat. Amelia came out of her room, still in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes. "What's going on? You two surely make it hard to sleep late on a Sunday."

"Sookie's got herself a nasty little brownie," Octavia said. "He's out in the garden as we speak."

"A brownie? Really? How'd you get one of those? Can I put him to cleaning out the basement? 'Cause I've been wanting to do it but it looks kind of dangerous down there!"

"We're not keeping him," I stated firmly.

"I'm not living in the same house as that horny sawed-off son of a bitch," Octavia all but yelled. I leaned forward and winked at Amelia. "He thinks she's cute," I confided in a low voice. Amelia raised her eyebrows and smiled.

"Oh, please, he can help me with my magic, finding all the strange herbs and stuff like that we need from the woods," Amelia pleaded. "You know, the wild-growing ingredients for my spells. I get freaking poison ivy every time I go out gathering."

"We're not keeping him," I repeated. "And he says he lives in a tree." After much more argument, they both could tell the whole situation was beginning to make me grumpy so they dropped the subject for the time being.

I went about doing things I needed to for the upcoming week, laundry and such. For the remainder of the afternoon I heard nothing from Wizno. I brought him water and and some lemonade. He waved big each time I looked out the window, I tried not to look like I was keeping tabs on him, but that was exactly what I was doing. I was glad I wasn't at home alone.

About four I started thinking about getting ready for dinner. Eric said this place was dressy, so I surveyed my closet. I pulled out a dress I'd found in Shreveport at an end of season sale. It was really pretty, one of my new faves, and I'd been saving it for a special occasion. It was beaded chiffon in swirling shades of aqua, dark blue, and muted red, with fluttery mid-length sleeves and a v-neck, low but not too low for dinner with a potential relative. The aqua made my eyes appear the same color, and looked great against my tan. The heavily beaded fabric fitted me to a T, came right below my knee, with a slit up the side to about mid thigh. I chose a pair of beautiful aqua sandals that matched the dress perfectly. I had mother of pearl drop earrings and a matching bracelet that set it off just right. I decided to forgo a necklace as the bodice was so elaborately decorated that it would be too busy. I wore my hair wavy and loose, with just the two front pieces caught back in a mother-of-pearl barrette.

I heard gravel crunch right on time, at about six thirty. I walked downstairs to see my Viking, wearing a gorgeous red dress shirt and tie, with black pants and his jacket over his arm. His hair gleamed, pulled back in a ponytail the way I liked it. He looked and smelled fantastic.

His eyes lit way up when he saw me coming down the stairs.

"Sookie, you look magnificent tonight." He dropped a kiss on my cheek. "I should take you out to dinner so I can see you in that dress again."

"Yes, you should," I said. "And not just so you can see me in this dress."

"Would you like me to take you out, my lover?" he asked, his brow furrowed. "You once said we were past dating."

"That doesn't mean we should never go out. Mr. Brigant said there are several Supe restaurants in the area," I pointed out. "Would they not have something to accommodate you?"

"Yes, lover, they would."

"Well, then, you should take me. By now I should be familiar with every one of them," I chided gently.

"Yes, you should," he acquiesced. "If I have been remiss I do apologize. There are other places for Supes that you may not know about also, I will have to acquaint you with them," he winked suggestively, and I wondered what the hell I had gotten myself into by jonesing for a dinner date with Eric.

Just then Wizno came clomping up the front porch, covered in bits of grass and weeds and smelling like gasoline and brownie sweat.

"Howya doing vampire?" he addressed Eric cheerfully. "Wizno," Eric nodded.

"You two know each other?" I asked. "It's been a few hundred years," Eric said. "But we have met, yes."

We headed to the Corvette. Unexpectedly Eric walked over to the passenger side and held open my door for me. He'd never done that before that I could recall. "What is he doing here?" Eric asked, much more calmly than I expected.

"When I was talking to the Fintan wannabe last night, I sorta said I wanted a brownie, but I was joking."

"Never joke with a fairy, Sookie; they usually have a very odd sense of humor, if they have one at all. You asked for a brownie, and now you have a brownie. You have only yourself to blame," he said teasingly, a twinkle in his eye as he pulled out on the main road.

"Yeah, that's what happened. My life's not weird enough, so I thought I'd get me a little filthy grub-munching creature who lives in a tree and pees out his ears to hang around my house and make things interesting," I said sarcastically.

"I think the peeing out the ears thing is a fallacy, but if he ever looks like he's going to sneeze, get the hell away from him," Eric said in a serious tone. I looked at him sharply to see if he was joking, but he wasn't. He really wasn't.

"I'm giving him back tonight."

"Not so fast," Eric said thoughtfully. "He could come in handy."

"There are lots of woods surrounding your properties, Sookie. Brownies are very good with the woods, skillful in any outdoor situation. I've been thinking about adding a day guard to your protection. He could be the woods guard. I think it would be a good idea, and as long as Fintan is offering…if it really is Fintan. I need to meet him first."

"You said last night they weren't good for anything," I reminded him.

"For me they are not," he said in a reasonable tone. "For you, perhaps."

I could feel my anger building. I hated that there was so much I didn't understand about the supernatural world.

"I want a list," I said suddenly. "I'm tired of finding out about something else I didn't know every day. I want a list of all the supernatural creatures in existence." I took out a gel point pen and a little notebook I had stuck in my evening bag (I thought I might want to write down some of what Fintan/Dermot/mystery fairy told me tonight) and looked at Eric expectantly.

'I am not doing it," he said, setting his jaw.

"What do you mean?"

"It would be overload Sookie, it's just going to get you agitated."

"Look, I've had it with this giving me information on a need-to-know basis crap. I need to know now."

Silence.

I started again. "There are fairies, werewolves, shifters, and vampires, demons and brownies, then there's those Britlingen things from Rhodes, the ones from another dimension…"

I looked at him inquiringly.

"What else?"

"Sookie, it's too much to get into here," he said slowly. "I do not want you to be upset before your dinner, you need to keep your head on straight. We will have this conversation some other time."

I could not believe he would not give me a simple list.

"Eric," I began. He cut me off. I noticed we were parked in front of a large grey stone building with no windows or signs. He leaned forward and grabbed my hand.

"Sookie, there is a real possibility that you are going to have to learn a lot of new things very quickly," his voice was tense and tinged with impatience. "Believe me, I will prepare you for it as well as I can. I know I told you I would try not to keep things from you. The fact is, I don't know what is going to happen, and I refuse to speculate with theories that may or may not be true. At some point in time you are going to have to trust me. Can you do that?"

I looked into his deep blue eyes. I did want to trust him, so badly. "Fine," I pouted. Really, Eric was right, I didn't want to get in a bad mood. I looked at the time. Of course Eric had driven like a mad man, and we were twenty minutes early.

"Come here, my lover," Eric murmured, a sexy smile curving his lips. "Make out with me in the parking lot for a little while. I'm going to miss you while I'm waiting." I leaned across the gear shift and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. "I don't want to mess up my face," I said, starting to lean back again.

"I want to kiss you, Sookie," he said, a bit of hurt in his voice as he pushed a lock of hair away from my eyes. "Do not deny me. You have to work tomorrow, so you will need to get some sleep tonight. I just want a moment, my lover. I will not muss your face. Is it too much to ask? " His glacial blue eyes filled with reproach.

Well, who the hell could resist that? I leaned back over the gear shift and he grabbed me lightly as he slid his seat back as far as it would go. Before I knew what was happening, my dress was pulled up to my thighs and I was across his lap, straddling him. I knew I had been played but before I could get mad he was nuzzling my neck in just the right way, his hands were everywhere, his cologne and presence enveloped me and what can I say, I just didn't give a damn.

His lips caught mine in a searing kiss just as his hands moved up and tangled in my hair "Eric, be careful," I moaned into his mouth. He moved his hands back down quickly, to my breasts this time, stroking my nipples through the fabric of my dress.

"Do you remember the last time you dined with a fairy, lover?" he asked huskily, removing one hand from my breast to stroke my neck. "You denied me nourishment after I took a bullet for you." He continued to play with my nipple, shifting in the seat as I felt his hardness pressing against me. "Tonight you will pay." My eyes widened as he trailed his mouth and tongue down my neck. "I'm going to bite you here," he cupped my breast again and squeezed lightly. "And here," he then reached between my legs, ran his hand all the way up, and goosed my inner thigh. I moaned again. He pressed himself against me, hard, and held it. His lips met mine. I gave the kiss all I had, to hell with my makeup and hair. Just then we were interrupted by a sharp tapping at the driver's side window.

Startled, I looked up to see Mr. Big Ant standing outside the car. I froze. Eric casually reached over and pushed the down button for the window.

"Greetings, Viking," he addressed Eric, his voice cold and his gaze fixed. "It has been a while. Do you think you could release my granddaughter from your loins long enough for me to have dinner with her?"

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	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the SVM universe, they all belong to Charlaine Harris, nor do I own any intellectual property of Michael Crichton. I am just amusing myself here. This chapter contains spoilers from all eight books, the short story Gift Wrap, and the first chapter of Dead and Gone, as well as the Barnes and Noble book review that is posted for Dead and Gone online. Please don't sue me, I have enough problems.

**Chapter 22**

Eric rolled the window back up as slowly as he rolled it down. I struggled to jump off him but he held me firm. He removed his hand from my backside (effectively releasing me from pressing against his freaking loins, I might add) then, deftly and gracefully, turned, using his massive frame to block me from my grandfather's view, and lifted me up while pulling my dress down in the same motion. My cheeks burned as he continued to block me while I composed myself. I straightened my dress and patted my hair down. "How's my face?" I whispered. He smiled and touched my cheek. "You are gorgeous," he said quietly. "Are you ready to get out?" I nodded, then smoothed his hair and straightened his tie a bit, although he didn't really need it that much.

I snuck a look and wondered what magic vampire trick he had used to deflate his erection so quickly. He opened his driver door and unfolded himself from the car. "Fintan," he said coolly, and nodded, before coming around to my side.

Wow, I guess it really is my grandfather, I thought. I had a moment to gather my wits before I stepped out. I picked up my bag and tried to move with as much dignity as I could muster. We all stood for a moment in silence before I remembered my manners.

"Mr. Brigant, this is my…boyfriend Eric Northman," I said. Fintan nodded. "I heard," he said briefly. "Mr. Northman and I know each other from many years ago."

"Will you be joining us this evening?" Fintan asked, making it quite clear that Eric had not been invited.

"No I just came along to verify your identity," Eric said. Jeez, not one for subtlety. He could have just said he drove me here. "I will walk Sookie in, if you don't mind."

Fintan led the way up the stairs to the front door of the unmarked building. Once inside a narrow hallway, he approached a plainly, but elegantly dressed hostess standing at a lone podium.

I hung back with Eric a little. "I can't believe that happened. I thought we were going to meet inside," I whispered. "Oh, no, the tables are in private rooms," Eric said. "There's not any place to meet inside this establishment."

My eyes flew open.

"You knew that and still you jumped me in the car?" I started to squeal, but he shushed me. "Eric, you did it on purpose!"

"I did not want to make the same mistake I made with Niall about not making our relationship clear from the beginning. I want him to know from the start that that we are together."

"So what's wrong with just telling him that?"

"Showing is better than telling." I did not care for Eric's smug tone one bit. "And you look so beautiful, I wanted to touch you anyway, so it was killing two birds with one stone." My eyes shot daggers at him. I was too incensed to speak. He gave my elbow a light squeeze.

"Sookie, why are you making such a big deal out of it," he chided. "You are an adult. So your grandfather saw you in the arms of the man who makes your heart sing, is that such a bad thing?"

I opened my mouth to speak, shut it, then opened it again. Eric winked at me, apparently amused at my dumbstuck air, and took his leave. "Call me when you are ready, I will be waiting," he nodded at Fintan again, and turned toward the door. Before I knew it, I was alone with my grandfather.

So much for me not getting myself agitated before dinner. He smiled at me, then gestured toward the hostess. "Come with us, my dear," and taking me lightly by the arm, we weaved through a maze of hallways before arriving at what I supposed was our private dining room. It was a small and intimate room. A red curtain hung over the narrow doorway.

We were seated and given menus. A tense little silence ensued. The name of the restaurant was apparently 'dine', which made me laugh inwardly. Those single-syllable one-word names, always in lower-case, are supposed to be so sophisticated. I'm going to own a restaurant one day and name it 'chew'.

In all the turmoil I had apparently forgotten my manners. "Thank you for the brownie," I said, still a little subdued. "I did not expect that."

"Oh," he said, his eyes lighting up. "You are very welcome, Sookie. How is he working out?"

"Well," I said as diplomatically as I could, "I have never had a brownie before, so I wasn't really prepared, and certainly did not know what to expect. But he does seem to know his way around a garden quite well."

"As far as brownies go, Wizno is a pretty good one," Fintan offered. "Just make your rules clear, and let me know if there are any problems. He is yours as long as you need him. His debt to me is large, and I don't see that he will be able to repay it completely for some time." I inclined my head. Upon reflection I'd decided that this was not the appropriate time to refuse a gift. Also, I liked having the help, although I did not want to take advantage in any way. What I really enjoyed was watching Wizno torment Octavia. No price tag for that. A win-win, for the time being.

"If he ever looks like he might need to sneeze,…" Fintan warned. I cut him off as gently as I could. "Yes, Eric told me."

There were all kinds of funky items on the huge menu, things that didn't even really sound like food. I noticed a whole page devoted to different flavors and brands of bloods. About half-way through it, I found a section of more familiar fare. My grandfather ordered prime rib and crab legs, and an order of pan seared potatoes on the side. "I am half-human," he said with a wink. I reflected again on how much he looked like my father. Blond hair, albeit graying heavily, blue eyes. Tonight he wore a dark suit and another shimmery dark blue shirt and tie; once again, the fine craftsmanship of his clothing struck me. Closer up, he looked a bit older than I thought he was at the cabin in human years, maybe late fifties, early sixties. What did Niall say his actual age was, about 700 years old? Whoa.

I had the filet topped with goat cheese and roasted red peppers. The wine steward brought around a selection, and he chose a cabernet. After ordering we became quiet again.

"Why vampires?" Fintan broke the silence.

I looked up slightly startled. "I never knew anything about the supernatural world until a couple of years ago," I said. "A vampire whose family had bequeathed him an ancestral home moved near me. Turned out Hadley," I looked for his recognition, he nodded, "She was involved with the vampire Queen of Louisiana and told her about my telepathy. The vampire, Bill Compton was in employee of the queen to –make my acquaintance and gain influence over me, for the queen. This was the first contact I ever had with Supes. I can't hear their thoughts, which is necessary, I have found, in order to have a relationship."

He seemed to want to hear more. Without going into too much detail, I told him the rest about Bill. "I met Eric while I was involved with Bill, and worked for him a few times. I dated a Weretiger in between. I am not totally stuck on vampires, it just happened that way."

Fintan nodded, looking deep into his wine glass.

"I'm not criticizing your choices, Sookie," he gave me a little smile. "Vampires and fairies – well, I know you know what I mean. You are only an eighth, so it shouldn't make much difference. I know Mr. Northman, and I know his reputation. He was renowned as a womanizer back in the day, although he has not been making so many headlines for the last century or so. I can say I have never heard of him being cruel to human women, but he has been known to be – prolific."

I didn't know how to respond. I couldn't defend Eric's reputation, as I didn't exactly know what it was, though I could imagine. I did know how women threw themselves at him, and most likely always had.

"He is good to me," I said, looking Fintan directly in the eyes. "I have no reason to believe he has been unfaithful since we agreed to be together. There is nothing I can do or say about his past. That was before we met, and what is done is done. He makes me laugh, he doesn't bore me, and he gets me. He gets me. I don't know what that means to you, but after a lifetime of being misunderstood, it is huge for me. He looks out for me, and protects me as much as I will let him."

Fintan inclined his head. Just then our salads arrived. We ate and small-talked a bit. He seemed to know a lot about my childhood, about Jason, and my life growing up. He spoke of my father hesitantly, and I could see the pain in his eyes and hear it in his voice. Apparently he grieved for my dad, and I was touched at the obvious love he had felt. He even knew about Quinn and Rhodes. I wondered who his sources were.

Even though I was too nervous to eat at first, we made it nearly through the main course fairly easily. My food was delicious, and he looked to be enjoying his as well.

We finished and the waiter cleared the plates. I politely declined dessert. My grandfather split the rest of the bottle between our respective glasses.

"Do you have a few minutes to talk as we finish our wine?" I nodded.

He pulled his chair around to mine.

"Sookie, we have much to discuss, and one evening will not be enough. As much as I'd like to continue our discussion of family matters, I do have a more pressing concern. You met the Britlingens in Rhodes, right?"

"Yes, Clovache and Batanya, Kentucky's guards from another dimension?"

"Exactly. And you know about sino-Aids, also known as Hepatitis D?" I nodded again. "There's a type of being you most likely have been introduced to yet. The Andromedas come from the same dimension as the Britlingens. Some people suspected a Britlingen originally brought them over. They showed up about forty years ago. The nickname is from the book by Michael Crichton, which was published around the time they first appeared. It fit because they are from another world, so to speak, and deal in blood-born diseases; are you familiar with the novel?"

"I've never read the book. But I saw the movie 'Andromeda Strain' when I was a little kid. It was an old movie then. Gran loved it."

He chuckled. "Yes, I remember she had a fondness for cheesy sci-fi, and made me watch a horrible production called 'Soylent Green' once when your father was small. But back to the subject at hand; Hepatitis D is a designer disease. It was lab-created by the Andromedas to affect vampires. They have other diseases in the works, much more powerful ones, that could wipe out whole populations of vampires, as well as humans, if mutations take place." He took a deep breath here before continuing.

"Fairies have not always been exactly ---opposed to killing off vampires, Sookie. They are predators to us. Some fairies," he looked me straight in the eyes then, "some fairies, let us say, very high up in the pharmaceutical hierarchy, have been suspected of aiding the Andromedas in their quest to kill vampires."

I knew he was referring to Niall at this point, though I tried not to give it away. "How?"

"By holding back on research and the cure for Hep D. It didn't seem so important before, because Hep D turned out to be pretty much a disappointment for the Andromedas anyway. It was supposed to work like Aids, but didn't quite cut it, hence the name change. But they have been working hard, and now there's another pathogen on the horizon, one much more potent. If research on this disease is mucked with – well, it could be devastating for several races, the vampire one being the most affected, of course, but humans would be close behind.

"What you need to understand is that there are also those close to you who do not think wiping out the human race would be such a bad thing, as the dwindling forests, the undisputed fault of humans, have hurt the fae population so. Not all fairies support these theories. There may be a war, a war that pits fairies against each other, but more importantly, fairies against vampires. And you, my dear, will be caught in the middle."

I swallowed. This was some deep shit. "What is the motivation? For the Andromedas, I mean?"

"The Andromedas want the human blood source for their very own and vampires are competition. They are a little like vampires, in that they need to drink human blood to survive. When one of the Andromedas bite you, however, they take all of your blood and plasma, in a matter of seconds, and leave you bone-dry. There's no tasting, no sipping, no feeding, no even coming back as one of them; they bite you, and you are dead and gone. They are so far past ancient that their blood supply has to be replaced every day or so, completely. They don't like fairy blood, a plus for the fae, of course. Were blood is okay, but they really want is human blood, and there are lots and lots of humans here, as you know. Earth is a big food planet for them, and they know it."

I sat and looked at my hands, trying to absorb all he was telling me. He patted me on the shoulder.

"I told you this because I wanted you to know why I have chosen to come back into your life at this time, the reason I have been spending time on your property. I will do everything I can to protect you, Sookie. But I need you to know I may have to go against Niall to do that."

He rose from the table.

"I think I have given you enough to think about for now. Would you like me to drive you home?" Fintan asked. "I will be glad to escort you back to Bon Temps."

"That's fine, but I told Eric I would accompany him to Fangtasia tonight after our dinner," I replied. "He will pick me up."

"He is protective of you," Fintan observed.

"To a point," I conceded. "But Gran.." I corrected myself, "Adele taught me to be independent."

"I'm sure she did," he said, and I thought I detected a slight wistfulness in his expression.

"Tell me about Adele." He looked at me quizzically. "I want to know about how you were together, why it didn't work, why she had children with you anyway."

He looked reluctant for a moment, then patted me on the arm. "We will talk again," he said, and I had to accept that. I texted Eric that we would be leaving in a few minutes. I was frazzled from all the new information. My grandfather was right; enough for one night. He asked if we could get together again and visit some more, and I agreed. We exchanged phone numbers and an awkward little hug.

Eric pulled up to the door to pick me up. I jumped in the car without giving him an opportunity to open my door.

"Thanks for telling me about the Andromedas, you giant ass," I slumped in the seat and folded my arms across my chest as he pulled away from the curb.

"Beg pardon?" Eric returned, his voice and demeanor stiffening.

I gave Eric a sideways glance and suddenly felt guilty. He had driven me to dinner and hung around just to pick me up.

"Sorry," I tried not to sound snippy but I don't think I succeeded. "I just learned about this group of dimension-jumping bloodsuckers that make vampires look like candy asses, who are trying to wipe you all out with blood-born pathogens, and who might just pit my newly-found grandfather against my great-grandfather, not to mention my family against your race, so I'm a little put out."

"He told you about that, did he?" Eric said. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "I hardly see that it was necessary."

"Well, everyone I know and care about may be going to war, and it may just be against one another, and you don't think I need to know?" I almost screeched.

"You do realize, that by supernatural standards, you are, in fact, a child? It would be unwise to bombard such an innocent with too much information."

"You do realize," I mimicked his condescending tone, "that in biblical terms, you are, in fact, older than Methuselah?"

He regarded me narrowly and did not respond. Maybe it was a cheap shot, but hey, he did call me a child first.

"Sometimes, Eric, a fresh perspective can be a good thing."

Still no response. I continued. "Age and experience are important, but so are youth and a new eye. You know I have the ability to see paths that aren't always apparent to others," I tried to speak quietly. "The point I'm trying to make is, when it comes to problem solving, we both have something to bring to the table. I think I have proven that more than once."

Eric spoke after a minute. "No one is denying your worth, my lover. It is very early in the game to speak of the Andromedas. And because it does affect your friends, and me, and also your relatives, I did not want to jump the gun, so to speak."

"I need to know what's going on Eric," I repeated. "It's making me crazy when I don't. This is exactly what we were talking about before dinner, and you know it." I looked out the window, and Eric sensed I was through with the subject for now.

We started talking about more mundane things then but the conversation still felt strained. Eric tried to touch me for the entire drive, even more determined than usual, but I swatted at him every time. He was so not getting any action in the car for a long time after his little exhibitionist stint with Fintan, not to mention the Andromeda thing. By the time we got to Fangtasia he was more than a little snitty, my humor dark as well. We walked in the back door and went straight to the office to find Pam waiting. She sensed the tension between us and it appeared to make her inexplicably cheerful.

"Trouble in paradise?" she quipped. "Oh, no, Sookie, are you no longer the golden apple he will continually pluck?"

I grimaced. "Pluck you, Pam."

"Ooh, touchy tonight," she chuckled. "What a waste." She leaned forward and sniffed me. "Especially when you smell more like fairy than normal."

I felt a pang of remorse. Fintan's scent must have lingered on me, and that's why Eric became so persistent on the drive back.

"Don't smell me," I snapped. "I'm sick of you vampires and all the smelling. You're worse than dogs." Pam leaned back, affronted. I knew I had been rude but I didn't care. Eric made an exasperated sound as he walked over to his desk and began examining paperwork.

"Pam, do not exacerbate Sookie's foul mood. Sookie, do not bite Pam's head off. Both of you, go get some blood and alcohol and get it into your systems." Pam and I looked at each other, a pair of chastised school girls. I frowned and she sneered.

"I've already had half a bottle of wine," I shot back.

"You're not driving. Get a cocktail, but don't linger in the bar. That fairy scent is faint, but it could still get you in trouble." He didn't even look up. I stalked out to the bar, got a drink, and returned to the office, passing Pam on the way. I grabbed her arm lightly.

"Got anything for me?" I whispered. She foisted a black expression on her face, pretending to not know what I was talking about. "Material, you know, to play a joke on your master?" I indicated the office with my head. "I'm still working on it," she sniffed me again, loftily this time. I dropped her arm and turned away, frustrated. I went into the office, sat down on the couch and nursed my drink.

Eric continued to work silently. My phone rang. Amelia.

"Sookie, I hate to bother you," she began. "How was your dinner?"

"It went pretty well. I'll tell you about it later." Not in the mood to rehash that conversation.

"That's good," she returned. I could hear Octavia running her mouth in the background, although I couldn't make out the words. "Anyway, um, Wizno did all he could in the garden for today, and then he started weed-eating around the house since the outside lights lit everything up pretty good, and well, he mentioned that he looked in Octavia's room through the window and it needed dusting. Now she's raising hell because she says she's afraid he'll sneak in her room tonight and pinch her in her sleep. Because that's what brownies do, you know."

"Nobody's pinching anybody. Tell Wizno to go get in his tree. And tell Octavia to dust her damn room."

"He's already left, but Octavia's worried he'll come back."

I sighed in annoyance.

"Why do I have to get in the middle of this, you two are witches, throw up an anti-brownie ward for the night, and we'll settle this tomorrow when I get home. I'm not putting up with any perverted brownie behavior, and I'll make it clear to Wizno tomorrow. Tell Octavia to chill, okay?"

"Fine." Amelia then lowered her voice. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much," she confided. I grinned into the phone, despite my black humor. "Yeah, she wishes he'd break into her room, if only to give her something to bitch about, but it's not happening, not in my house. I'll see y'all after I get off work tomorrow."

I closed my phone and looked at Eric. "Okay, you've taken care of your kids' fight, and I've taken care of mine, can we go now?"

"I have a little more work to do," he said. I leaned my head against the back of the couch and rested as he finished up. About twenty minutes later I heard him stand up from his desk.

"Are we going home angry?" he sounded a little resigned. I thrilled a bit at his use of the word 'home'. I suddenly realized how weary I had become of contention. "No, Eric, we're not." I walked over to him and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "Good," he grinned.

We walked outside. Eric caught both my arms. Iron & Wine's 'Flightless Bird' drifted out from the band.

"Dance a minute, lover. You are overwrought tonight," he brushed the hair back from my face and kissed me on the forehead. "The Andromedas are not yours to battle alone. You do not have to take the weight of the world on your shoulders, there are others who will fight. Remember that I am here for you. Everything will be all right."

I looked up and took a moment to appreciate this man of mine. He still had on his tie, and looked oddly formal, but absolutely gorgeous. I closed my eyes and tucked my head under his chin. We moved in small circles on the tiny patch of asphalt outside the back door of Fangtasia, lost in our own little world for the duration of the song. When the music broke I heard a sound and looked up to see Pam standing at the door, Eric's cell phone in her hand. "You forgot this," she said, handing it to him. For once she didn't smirk, and her small smile looked genuine. "You two get on home, now." She went back inside, closing the door softly behind here.

"Do you feel better, dear one?" I nodded, my head still against his chest. I didn't want to move.

"Because remember, you owe me. Payback, for the bullet thing." He chucked me under the chin. I looked up into his eyes, which were full of concern and something else I couldn't interpret. I knew he was trying to cheer me up by teasing me. I did appreciate it.

"I don't think so."

"Oh, I do, lover. I do."

"Eric?"

"Yes?"

"You do make my heart sing a wee bit every now and again, you know."

"Yes, lover, I know. Don't hurt yourself there."

I giggled and swung his hand as we walked to the car. His bemused expression told me swinging hands was not something he had done much of in his existence, so I swung them higher. We rode to his condo in a comfortable silence, and yes, I did pay, but so did he, and I'm not complaining.

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**A/N Several people have been on vacation in my office, and I'm going next, but I hope to still get out at least one chapter a week for the next little while. Please take the time to review, not only my story, but any story you enjoy on this site; other than personal satisfaction, reviews are the only consideration the writers receive for their painstaking hours of labor. God bless, y'all. **

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	23. Chapter 23

**A/N Sorry this chapter took so long, I am on vacation like I said and my world is a little unstructured right now, as it should be! The reviews have made me crazy happy, you all are the best. A Texas-size thank you to my beta TxGal, so good to have you back : )**

**Chapter 23**

"I want you to stay out of this one," he said, one hand draped across my stomach, the other toying with my hair. We were lying in his bed, minutes before dawn. He had gotten to where he'd wake me up right before he had to go to sleep, so we could share a few morning moments before I got up and he went to bed for the day.

Little tendrils of dread made their way up my spine. "What are you talking about," I asked, even though I knew.

Eric sighed and rolled over. "You can't fight them, Sookie. They are too fatal, and you're too mortal. I want you to sit this one out."

"Gee, coach," I teased, even though I knew teasing would get me nowhere, "but I want to play."

He turned my head towards him and locked eyes with me. "I do not want you doing anything that would attract attention to yourself, do you understand? I don't want you stirring this up. If Fintan or Niall asks you to do anything, I want you to talk to me before you do it."

"I'm not an idiot, Eric." He made an angry sound.

"You may not be an idiot, but you are incredibly lousy at self-preservation. You are not, what is the expression, ten feet tall and bullet-proof, yet you continuously act as though you are. As I told you last night, this is not your fight. Vampires and fairies will figure this out, because it is in our best interest to do so."

I huffed and crossed my arms against my naked chest. "I've managed to stay alive so far."

He sat up on the bed at this, his elbows on his knees, and ran his fingers through his hair. I had to admire his statuesque physique, the graceful, cat-on-the-prowl way he moved in spite of his size.

"If the Andromedas figure out you have ties to both Niall and Fintan, as well as ties to me," he looked up at me again and met my eyes, "you will be a very powerful bargaining chip, Sookie. Do you understand what I am telling you? All you need to do is try to stay safe.

"I need you to try to stay safe Sookie. Can you do that for me?"

"Is staying safe the same as staying ignorant, Eric? Because I'm beginning to think that in your book, they are the same thing."

Silence. He dropped his head into his hands again. I started to feel sorry for him, then quelched it. "I have to get ready for work," I said, rolling out of the bed. I reached for my robe and he didn't stop me. "You need to go to sleep." I leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. "I am not joking, Sookie," he said, looking up, his expression serious and more than a little frightening.

"I know Eric. And neither am I." I shut the door to the bedroom quietly and got in the shower. The sun would be up by the time I got out. Dirty trick, yes? Remember, vampires taught me all about dirty tricks.

I got ready and drove to work in a blue-gray funk. Did Eric honestly think I could keep myself from trying to find out all I could about this new development? Really? Surely he knew me better than that.

I'd been working at my desk about two hours when Lance happened by my door. "Hey Sookie, what's up?" He came in and sat in the chair right across from me. "Nothing much," I said. He looked nice today, dressed in that citified-lumberjack-professor way that just seemed a part of him. "What do you know about Andromedas?"

Lance looked alarmed and got up to shut the door. "Hey, Sookie, that's not a word you want to throw around," he said quietly. "I can tell you this – you never want to meet one. You're not enough fairy, and I'm not enough Were, to stop one from draining us dry."

"What do they look like?"

"Absolutely beautiful creatures. Tall and tow-headed blonds, thin. They aren't pale like vampires either, unless they are very hungry, which, unfortunately, they often are. You might think they're European, because they usually dress all in black, and look Scandinavian. They usually don't work in groups of more than two or three, because they do tend to stand out. Evil beyond evil, Sookie." I could tell by the intensity of his expression how serious he had become.

"And what's happening with them right now?"

"There are rumors that their numbers here have increased, although it would only take a handful to wreak some real havoc."

"They need to get their pathogen into the blood supply, so it can reach vampires. Easiest way to do that is to infect humans who will be feeding vampires. Fangtasia will be a prime target."

"What are they doing here? Why aren't they someplace like New York or L.A.?"

"It looks like they're starting here because Louisiana has a high vampire population, is weak due to Katrina, and also because the vampires have a new king, another liability. Nothing's happening yet, but it could any second. All we really know is there is a new pathogen, and Andromedas have been sighted."

Lance walked across the room and looked out the window. "It's a really nasty way to get what they're after and the repercussions could be far-reaching. Hell, I'd rather get involved in an out-and-out hands-on battle any day." He smiled slightly as he looked at me. "Native Americans don't have a lot of patience for bio-warfare. We never forgot the smallpox infested blanket thing, you know."

"How do you know so much? Eric…" I hesitated because I did not want to seem disloyal. "Well, some people don't seem to want to talk much about them."

"It's still privileged information at this point, Sookie. We don't want humans to know about it because it might cause a backlash on all Supes in general, and we have enough to contend with on that front."

I sat silent. Did this mean Eric didn't trust me not to run my mouth to the wrong people? And could I blame him, because here I was, asking Lance about it as soon as I got a chance.

Lance excused himself, patting me on the shoulder as he walked out. I spent the rest of the day running through what little information I had in my mind, not really getting anywhere.

I drove home still deep in rumination. Wizno was merrily running the tiller in the garden, grinning and waving as I drove by. I stopped at the house for a second and went inside to find Amelia sacked out on the couch and Octavia in the shower. I wrote a note in large letters "No pinching on Stackhouse property" and pinned it to Wizno's jacket, which was lying across the porch swing. I wrote Octavia a note that said "Do not harass the hired help. Also, you get more flies with honey than vinegar" and taped it to her mirror. I then headed across the yard and up the hill. As the cabin came into sight I spotted two men dressed like gladiators posted on either side of the front door.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

The guard to the right of the door looked at me quizzically. Both reminded me of Claude, tall, dark hair, almost impossibly good-looking.

"Are you Sookie?"

"Yes."

"Fintan sent us. I'm Rex and this is Bruno. We're your guards."

"Where is Fintan?"

He motioned inside with his head, and I walked through the door, where I found Fintan seated in what I assumed to now be his favorite chair.

"What is going on?" I mean, the property did belong to me.

I noted my grandfather looked tired. "Sookie, calm down. Adromedas were spotted at Merlotte's today."

"Who spotted them?"

"Your former boss, Sam. He called me."

"How long have you and Sam been communicating?"

"Since I introduced myself to him after we met the other night. I'm afraid you're going to have to be sequestered for a while. Don't eat or drink anything other than what the guards bring you. The vampire will have to stay away."

I flew angry. "Look, you can't just come in here and make me a prisoner in my own home, and you can't keep me away from Eric."

Just then I heard a pop and Niall appeared right before us.

Fintan stood up with a growl. "Father," he said pointedly. "I told you to stay out of this."

Niall ignored him. "Sookie, I see you have met my son."

"Father and I reunited this morning," Fintan said when he saw my expression. "And during our reunion we neglected to address one specific issue; that being, before I was thought to be dead, your welfare was my concern and Niall was to stay out of it. Now that I am back in the game, so to speak, I expect things to be the same as before.'

"I don't see it that way," Niall said, returning his glare. "I thought you were dead for nearly two years. For the last six months, I have met with Sookie on several occasions, and even spent Christmas Day with her. I have grown fond of her now that I am in her life, and you can't expect me to leave."

"Father, you promised."

"Son, you led me to believe you were dead."

"I want to protect her from evil." Fintan looked as if he might lose his temper any second.

"And so do I."

"Yet you seem to forget that protecting her from evil, and protecting her from you, may very well be the same thing."

Niall drew himself up and pointed a warning finger at Fintan. The air around them began to crackle and pop.

"I think I'll wait outside," I sad, slinking out the door. Rex and Bruno were right where I left them. The sun had set, I looked at my watch, seven fifteen, Eric should be at work by now. I walked a few feet away and dialed Fangtasia on my cell phone.

Pam answered the phone. "Fangtasia. Come on in, we don't bite. Unless you want us to, that is."

"Come on Pam, you know it's me. Let me talk to Eric."

"Hello, Sookie, so nice to talk to you again. He's in a meeting at the moment. Can I take a message?"

"I really need to talk to him. It's important, can't you just tell him I'm on the phone?"

"What's the problem?"

Damn it, I did not want to talk to Pam. All the words came out in a big rush. "I got home from work, and there's these two fairy guards posted at my cabin, and Fintan's here, and he's saying I can't leave, or eat or drink anything unless the guards bring it to me, and also that Eric can't come here, for an undisclosed period of time. Then Niall came, and now they're inside fighting, and I don't even know either one of them that well, you know? And I don't know what to do."

"Mmm," Pam's tone let me know just how unimportant and juvenile she found my current dilemma. "Fairy guards from the fae ward? Are they from the _Royal_ Fairy Guard, by chance?"

"How the hell should I know? They're all dressed up like Spartacus."

"Oh, really. Are they wearing leather skirts?"

"Yes."

"Gorgeous and bare-chested?"

"Uh-huh."

"And those lace-up leather sandals, with the metal gauntlets?"

"Right."

"I do not feel sorry for you."

"Come on Pam, let me talk to Eric."

"Why, when you say you're being protected by two drop-dead gorgeous fairy guards, decked out in complete Roman regalia, and you want my sympathy? Not going to happen."

Lord, one day I'm really going to hurt that woman. "Fine. Tell him to call me." I snapped my phone shut.

A devilish solution occurred to me. I walked back toward the front of the cabin. "Rex and Bruno," I gave them my flirtiest smile, "Would you two do me a huge favor and help me play a little prank on my friend?" They looked at each other and nodded reluctantly.

"You take the picture," I handed my phone to Rex, who obviously knew what I was talking about from the way he immediately began scrutinizing the buttons, "and you, "I pointed to Bruno, "put your arms around me and bend me back like you're an ancient Roman battle monger and I'm the spoils of war, got it?" He nodded, grinning.

He dutifully wrapped his arms around me. Just to mess with Pam further I hitched my leg up around his bare waist. His eyes widened as well as his grin. He pushed my skirt up and grabbed me by my upper thigh in much the same pose as Claude and I struck for that romance novel contest that time, except I went even farther back. (For future reference, a leather skirt on a man can be just about too revealing.)

Bruno lowered his head to inches from my mouth, and my hair swept against his bare arm. "Take it," I yelled, and heard the obligatory click. "Thanks." I straightened up and reached for the phone. "My friend will love it. She's…partial to fairies, you might say."

"Want one with me?" Rex asked hopefully.

"Next time," I said cheerfully. I checked the photo, boy, did it look great, and pressed 'send' to Pam's number about half a second before I realized what I had done. Shit, I thought, if she shows it to Eric and he takes that the wrong way…..right then my thoughts were interrupted by another flash of light from inside the cabin. Oh well, I reasoned with myself, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Approximately four minutes later my phone rang. Eric wasted no time getting to the point.

"What the hell is this?" From his tightly controlled tone, I could tell he knew exactly what the hell it was, and didn't find it funny at all. I walked over to the tree swing for some privacy.

"I'm just trying to get your attention. Niall and Fintan are fighting here, I'm afraid they're going to explode my cabin, and they say I can't go anywhere and they have these two fairy warriors guarding me."

"And you thought the appropriate way to deal with this situation would be to have yourself photographed as you wrap your body around another man, and a fairy to boot?"

"Come on Eric, it was just a ploy to get you to pick up the phone. Pam wouldn't let me talk to you."

He huffed. "I do not care for that ploy. And unless you want me to do the same thing to one of the fangbangers and send the photo to you next time you're busy working and can't take my call, I'd suggest you don't pull that again."

"Point taken." I took a few seconds to breathe. "They're not letting me leave the premises, I'm 'sequestered for my own protection' is the way they put it, because a couple of Andromedas were spotted at Merlotte's today. They say I can only eat food they bring in, and now both of them are arguing over who's in charge of me, and I don't understand why anyone has to be."

Eric appeared to be taking all this in. "It's happening faster than I thought it would. The cabin is safer than anywhere else right now, Sookie, and the Royal Fairy Guard is highly trained. You are not as much sequestered as you are quarantined. Rumor has it the pathogen is on the very verge of release."

"And why would I be such a big target? Wouldn't they just try to put it in the water system or something, instead of a single individual at a time?"

"My guess is they haven't done much research on the pathogen. After all, it isn't as if any vampires would volunteer for a study. They are probably trying to accomplish something on a qualitative basis first. The quantitative will come later, trust me. Right now they're trying to get the maximum bang for the buck.

"This is why you are in such peril at this particular time. If they infect you, Sookie, then they infect me. That would be the motivation."

"Oh." It scared me, to say the least, to think that the Andromedas knew that Eric 'fed' from me, even though I suppose it would appear quite logical to anyone who thought about it.

"This place is crawling with fairies, Eric. Fintan and Niall say you have to stay away until something gets figured out."

The ensuing silence spoke volumes and seemed to last forever, even though I knew it was just a couple of minutes.

"It may be for the best right now, Sookie. Someone could be following either one of us, and staying apart may be a good idea for the time being." I didn't speak. A great wall of sadness appeared before my mind's eye. We were both silent again for a minute or two.

"How are the seedlings?" he asked gently, out of the blue.

"The what?"

"The plants, you know. How are they doing?"

Tears welled up in my eyes and I struggled to control my voice so he wouldn't catch on. "They're fine," I said. "They're all doing really great, and will be ready to put in the ground soon. They miss you." I wasn't really talking about the plants.

Surprisingly, he let me get away with that statement. "I will call you later, my lover. Fintan and Niall aren't going to kill each other, and the guards are there if things get out of hand. Stay at the cabin and keep busy. It will help to try to keep your mind occupied."

"Bye," I said, and heard a click.

I didn't know why then, and I'm not sure I will know why thirty years from now, but something about him asking me about those stupid seedlings threw me over the edge of a place deep and wide. I sank to the ground and stared at the swing where we had been together, and the creek that we slid down during the ice storm, just those few weeks ago, and the tears spilled over and washed down my face in torrents. I lied down on the grass and moss carpet like a child, on my stomach with my head on my arms, and wept uncontrollably until I could weep no more.

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**I have updated my profile with the latest diet drama for anyone who's following, your support is amazing and really keeps me going. Folks who read are the best kind of folks, don't you agree? **


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

'_The excursion is the same when you go looking for your sorrow as when you go looking for your joy.' - Eudora Welty _

I kept still on the ground after my sobbing subsided. The moon and stars lit up the sky and it wasn't really that dark so I propped my chin up on my arms and watched the night lights bounce off the water of the creek while I let my mind clear.

After a few minutes a pair of men's feet, clad in leather sandals, walked into my line of vision. "You okay?" a deep masculine voice directed at me. I looked up to meet Bruno's clear green eyes. He bent over and offered me his hand. Reluctantly I took it and let him help me up. I busied myself dusting myself off, not really knowing what to say to this person (fairy, whatever) who just witnessed my breakdown.

"They've finished their argument in there," Bruno pointed toward the cabin, "if that's what was bothering you." It really wasn't but I decided not to elaborate. "You must be pretty important," he continued. " I've never been assigned to guard a human before."

"You work for Fintan," I pointed out a mite tartly. "He's half-human."

Bruno nodded. "Yes, but half royal fairy,' he said. "How much fairy blood do you have?"

"An eighth, Fintan is my grandfather."

"Ah, I gathered as much from the bits of conversation I overheard. An eighth royal fairy especially in the current lineage is important. You still count as nobility by most."

I could not care less about that, although I did wonder what the 'especially in the current lineage' comment meant. "How long have you been told you have to stay here?" I asked.

"However long it takes," he shrugged.

"Oh."

We walked back to the front porch. I could hear Fintan and Niall discussing something, but I couldn't make out the words. I sat down on the steps and Bruno sat beside me. Rex stood beside the door, staring at me.

I concentrated on my breathing while I tried to come to grips with the situation. I found my conversation with Eric to have been, as usual when the subject comes to Supes and their world, frustrating and unsatisfying. Obviously he still felt he needed to hold back info. The depressing realization that I would be stuck in this cabin, for perhaps weeks, with only these two fairies as company, began to sink in. I also felt a deep and abiding sadness at the thought that Eric still did not trust me enough to tell me everything. We had come so far, but still had so far to go.

"Niall is furious. I heard him say he has always wanted to take you to the Fae realm, and now thinks he definitely should," Bruno confided. "Fintan insists you stay here. He said you would be unhappy. Fintan never found happiness in the fairy world, he said he was always too much an outsider, and didn't want you to suffer like he had." He leaned in toward the door again.

"Fintan just admitted, however, that it may become necessary if the situation intensifies."

Damn it, I was not going to any other freaking realm. Still, I wondered how weird the Fae world could possibly be. I mean, I had been in a constant state of culture shock ever since I met Bill Compton. Getting used to it.

"I do have guards of my own," I stated loftily. Rex snorted.

"The brownie and that half-wit vampire," he all but snarled. "I can see why Fintan called us."

"Hey, don't be knocking the King," I retorted, surprised a little at my own vehemence. "The circumstances of his death may have been unfortunate, in more ways than one, but when that man was alive he gave more than he got, a thousand fold. Anyone who truly appreciates modern music knows it." Rex shrugged, appearing properly chastised.

Bruno grinned. "Bubba and Wizno are now guarding your farm house down the hill," he said. "I think the witches, particularly the older one, are keeping them very busy." I could imagine.

Fintan and Niall walked out of the cabin, both looking resigned. "We ordered dinner," Fintan said.

"How…" before I could finish I heard a pop and a third fairy guard appeared, carrying a large basket. I looked from the guards to my grandfather and great-grandfather. Where was I going to seat all these people in my tiny cabin? "Do you all want to eat outside?" They seemed amenable so I went inside, fixed my face, and got a table cloth and some candlesticks. I brought them out and spread them on the old picnic table. The third guard set the basket down, nodded at Niall and disappeared again. Bruno helped me get dishes together and prepare the table.

We began to set up our odd picnic. Bruno and Rex spread out the fare. It looked to be several salads with strange looking greens and cheeses, as well as small loaves of sprouted bread and what appeared to be a type of grilled and marinated fowl. It all smelled and looked good, but not like anything I had ever had before. Fintan uncorked a bottle of chilled reddish wine. The guards looked uncomfortable at sitting down with us, but did so at my insistence. Fintan and Niall started to say something but I frowned at them. I wasn't raised to have separate tables for supposedly different 'classes' of people, and I sure wasn't doing it at my cabin.

"This looks nice," I said, trying to make conversation. "Is this fairy food?" The men all looked at me and laughed. "No, this is from an all organic farm I own," Niall said. "When in the human world I have learned that I have to grow my own. I am often the target of poisoning. That's why I want you to eat from my farm, it is protected."

"That's what the royal fairy guard does? These guys guard cucumbers and chickens?" I shot out before I could stop myself. Everyone chuckled.

"There's a little more to it than that," Niall admitted, but did not expound. "I picked out this wine in deference to your Louisiana heritage. It is muscadine, that is why it is served cold." I smiled a little, touched at his thoughtfulness. The wine was very good, a little sweet, but muscadine and scupperdong wine always is, otherwise you couldn't stand it.

"Sookie's putting in a garden this year," Fintan pointed out. "Wizno's been getting it ready." Niall frowned. "Wizno," he said with more than a little contempt. "You've still got that brownie sponging off you, after all these years, clinging to you like a leech."

The conversation became more lighthearted then, as Niall and Fintan began regaling me with tales of Wizno's escapades over the years, which did make me laugh. They sure did not want to talk about vampires. Eventually however, the subject did come up.

"You know Sookie is bonded to Eric Northman," Niall looked at Fintan as he spoke.

"I did not know they were bonded," Fintan's eyes drifted to me. "Mr. Northman did accompany Sookie to dinner with me the other night. He managed to make it clear," I squirmed here at his intense gaze, "that they are very close."

Rex and Bruno stared at me, both their mouths hanging slightly open. "The Viking?" they said in unison. "But you seem like such a sweet girl," Rex said. Niall gave him a withering stare, and he slunk back down and suddenly became fascinated with the food on his plate.

"Does someone care to explain any of this Andromeda crap to me?" I am so sick of being the least informed person in the room.

No one spoke. The guards exchanged nervous glances. Niall and Fintan sat stone-faced.

"How close are they?"

Still no answer. Finally Fintan spoke up.

"You know the old leprosy colony in Carville?" he asked. I nodded. Every body knew about that place. The last leper colony in North America, it shut down about ten years ago. The hospital was actually an old plantation house, and had always been surrounded by lots of rumors, gossip, and out right fallacies. 'We're gonna send you to Carville with the other freaks,' kids would taunt me, before I knew how to hide my telepathy.

Chosen for its isolation back in the late 1800's, the place had always been a sterling example of the decaying South. I read an article years ago written by one of the residents. He said it felt much like a prison, but people rarely wanted to leave if their disease had progressed to great disfigurement due to the social stigmas surrounding leprosy, even in modern times. It's been restored now, but back in the day cockroaches the size of bats flew around the halls, according to legend, and bands of armadillos could be heard at night running up and down the oak and magnolia lined dirt driveway. Its proximity to the Mississippi river, and the fact that it is surrounded by swamp land, made it an ideal place for anyone wanting to hide out.

"The main house and infirmary are national monuments now, but there are some old abandoned labs and outbuildings back in the swamps no one cared to restore. Rumor has it they've set up their laboratories in those ruins," he said. "And that it's their central operating location."

"Who would want to be back there in the swamps and kudzu so thick you couldn't cut through it with a machete? There's not even electricity in some of those places, they're so water-logged."

"Andromedas aren't short of resources," Fintan explained. "They'd have generators, even nuclear reactors if they needed them. They would want a secluded area, and by the gods, would they have it there."

Niall got a funny look on his face and Fintan shut up then. I wondered whose side he was on.

When dinner ended Niall and Fintan went back inside the cabin. Bruno and Rex started to clean up the plates. I told them just to pack up the food and I'd get the dishes. Forgive, me, but I just don't think I could have handled the vision of those two washing up at my kitchen sink, I might die of laughter. They ribbed each other a bit as they gathered the food back into the basket. I realized these guards had more personality than your average fairies.

We were nearly through with cleaning up when my phone rang. Eric. "Hey," I said, my voice a little breathless as I rushed away from the table for some privacy.

"What's going on there, Sookie?" Eric sounded more than mildly curious.

"We just finished dinner," I said. "Rex and Bruno are helping me clear the table."

"Rex and Bruno, the fairy guards," he repeated. "Who else did you dine with?"

"Fintan and Niall."

"Ah. How cozy." I did not care for the implications of his tone. "Be aware that Fintan and Niall do not approve of our relationship."

"Yes, I'm getting that."

"And given the history of Niall's behavior toward you, the fact that they chose two highly attractive fairy males to guard you may not be entirely without ……"

I felt my face stiffen. Surely Eric wouldn't make such a cheap shot.

'Are you insinuating that I am unusually susceptible to the charms of a fairy, given _my_ history?" I asked woodenly.

"Oh, no, lover, I won't go there," he chuckled. I found no humor in the situation. "Just remember, fairies are tricky, and you are surrounded by them."

I decided to change the subject. "What have you been doing all evening?"

Just then I heard Pam in the background. It sounded like she said 'I think I found you a boat.' He hushed her. "Working," he said, a little shortly.

"I heard Pam say something about a boat. Air boats, would that be?" I knew I was misbehaving but I didn't care. "To go out in the swamps, perchance?"

A heavy silence ensued.

"Sookie," Eric said slowly, carefully, "Sookie, I need you to be careful…"

I cut him off. "Talk to me Eric," my voice on the verge of pleading. "Talk to me."

He made a slight sound of frustration. "Lover, keep your ears open and your mouth shut. We will talk, very soon. For now, learn what you can, and don't give anything away."

"Eric, I don't know anything to give away!" my voice raised in spite of myself. "That's my whole point!"

"You know more than you realize, Sookie, You're a smart girl. Make me proud," he said. What the hell was that supposed to mean? These ambiguous conversations, all rife with innuendo and double entendres, were killing me.

"Fine, Eric, fine. I'll spend all my time trying to put together the puzzle, when you know you're hiding most of the pieces." He didn't respond. "I do have a job, you know. What am I supposed to tell Alcide?"

"I'll call him tonight and explain everything," he said.

"Eric, I don't need my _man_ to talk to my _boss_," I said. "Just tell me what I can say, and I'll say it." He laughed, then, much to my chagrin.

"You called me your man," he teased. "Shut up," I shot back. "Sometimes you're not any more mature than I am, and I have actual youth to blame."

"Sookie," he began more seriously. 'It's not a male-female thing, it's a Supe-human thing. I think Alcide will take it better coming from me."

"Oh, whatever. You're probably going to tell Alcide something you don't want to tell me, and isn't that a fine kettle of fish?" I became more irritable by the second.

"Are we going home angry?" he echoed his words from the other night. I didn't answer.

"Very soon we will speak, and you will know everything I do," he said. "I have the safety of my retinue to consider; there are many lives at stake here. Can you show me a little patience, my dove?"

He'd never called me that before. I think I like it. I felt a little ashamed. Eric must be awfully worried about all the people who rely on him.

"How's Berta?" I asked by way of a truce.

"She's fine," he replied, amusement evident in his voice. "She sends her love."

As before with the seedlings, I wondered if he was talking about the fish. A pregnant silence followed. I swear I could almost hear his mind whirling, the gears just clicking away.

"You are in a position in which you could be very helpful, do you understand what I am saying? I do not want to take advantage of you or endanger you. I would rather leave you out. But if you insist on helping, just listen, Sookie. Listen, and don't give anything away."

"Play the dumb blonde, you mean."

"Just be the sweet, innocent Southern belle you have always been. You won't get away with playing too dumb, but you can act as though you aren't terribly interested or vested in the situation. Learn what you can.

"I worry for you, my dove. Be careful."

We said good night, our second unsatisfying call of the evening. I did feel a weensy bit better, but only just. I realized Eric was right, however; I might feel isolated, but actually, I had the company of several individuals who might provide me with a wealth of information. I turned to Bruno and Rex, my new best friends, and put on my brightest smile.

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**A/N This is kind of a short chapter; I'm still working on my pathogen, sorry, I've never developed a disease before, please have patience. My diet profile will be updated tonight after weigh-in, keep your fingers crossed! Thank you again for your kind reviews, they do cheer me so : )**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

"Tell me about the fairy realm," I asked sweetly, settling back into my seat at the picnic table. "I find myself very interested in what may be my new home."

Rex and Bruno looked at each other. "It's hard to describe," Rex said. "To you, I suppose it would seem surreal, like a dream. Everything there is – fluid - there are no sharp corners, no beginning or end. Fairies do not exist in this form there, but in the light of their being." He sighed at my confused expression.

"What would have to happen for me to be sent there?" I asked, my eyes big and wide.

"Well, things would have to get pretty bad."

"Does it look like they might?"

"It's possible."

I decided to go for sincerity here. "I really hope the Andromedas don't get what they're after. I don't want to leave my family and friends."

"There are two schools of thought as far as the Fae are concerned, Sookie. One is, if the Andromedas take over, the fairies have lost their biggest predator and the source of the dwindling forests. We could possibly prosper, thrive, and grow back to our former numbers or even greater. The other school, the one to which I'm leaning," here Bruno paused and looked at Rex before continuing, "is that the Andromedas are far more evil than humans, even if they don't drain us and destroy nature."

I tried to get some more information out of them, but they clammed up after that. Soon I went to bed, even though it was hard to relax knowing they were outside, awake. I didn't know when or if they slept, but I decided to ask them that another day.

The next few days went by much the same. I managed to get a few valuable nuggets from Bruno; Rex was much less forthcoming. I spent the days working, mostly conferencing with Alcide and Lance. I had to admit Eric was right, staying busy did help.

Friday morning I was awakened to the sound of arguing outside the cabin door. I pulled on my robe and slippers and stumbled out the front door to find Wizno standing on the edge of the moss circle, carrying a large box.

"Fed Ex delivered this for you Miss Sookie," he crowed. "And your goons here won't let me give it directly to you as I was instructed by the Viking."

Bruno walked carefully over to the edge. He inspected the box all over, shook it, smelled it, and kicked it. I rolled my eyes.

"There's a note," he said.

"Read it."

"It says 'Use these to call me, dove. Signed, Your man'," Bruno turned and smiled. Rex guffawed.

My cheeks brightened with color. "Well, bring it here," I said. "I don't think my man sent me a bomb."

The box had about ten prepaid –cell phones in it, and a box of Pauline's hand-dipped chocolate covered cherries. These aren't ordinary confectionary cherries. About the size of fifty-cent pieces, just one filled up the palm of my hand. The nougat was laced with rum, the chocolate creamy and decadent. I had only had one, years ago, as a special treat from Gran; they were terribly expensive. I stared at the huge box, deeply touched by Eric's unexpected romantic gesture.

My cell phone rang. Amelia's voice rang out on the other end, slightly hysterical. "Sookie, tonight's the Pure Cupid party! Wizno said those fairy guards won't let you leave the property and tonight's the party! You have to be here, you're my co-hostess!'

I groaned. I had forgotten all about that stupid party. One of Amelia's so-called buddies from New Orleans had talked her into hosting one of those horrible sales parties, you know, like Tupperware, or Pampered Chef, and the hostess gets gifts in return for having the party at her house. This one is called "Pure Cupid," and features romance type items, from what I understood.

"I'll call Niall and see if he'll let me come down for a couple of hours," I said. I'd really like to skip this thing, but, if I could get out of the cabin for a little while, it might be worth it. It took some finagling to get Niall to agree, but reluctantly he said it would be okay, if he sent extra guards, and I only stayed a little while.

Amelia called me several times, but she was in her element, the way she loved to organize and entertain. Around five I showered and changed into a simple periwinkle skirt and camisole top, with a pair of high heeled sandals. I pulled my hair loosely on top of my head and put on a strand of fresh-water pearls and drop earrings to complete the hostess look.

I found myself looking forward to a break from the current political tension. I could tell from my guards' stare that I looked nice. Rex and Bruno walked me down the hill, I felt like Gwen Stefani on tour, a little silly. The two other guards were already posted by the doors. Wizno walked around the yard talking very fast on a Bluetooth. He had taken a bath for the occasion and put on a white suit. He looked good, but kind of like a crazed Tattoo from _Fantasy Island_.

I walked in the front door and stopped in my tracks. I don't know what I was expecting – a romance party – sounds like some risqué lingerie, something between Victoria's Secret and Fredrick's of Hollywood, some chocolates, massage oils, a few scented candles, maybe some things like that - but I can tell you what I wasn't expecting. I wasn't expecting to walk through my front door and see my dining room table – the solid mahogany antique that belonged to my great-great-grandmother on the Stackhouse side, the table where we have Christmas dinner, where I decorated Easter eggs as a child – that table, loaded down with every imaginable sex toy known to man.

Dildos, strap-ons, vibrators, some curved apparatus called a g-spot locator (?), whips, paddles, blindfolds, 'plugs', feathered and leathered - things – and everything, everything, in bright, neon colors, was tied up with ribbons and bows and all covered in glitter. A whole side table held nothing but lotions, creams, lubricants, powders, sprays, and oils. My sideboard held a display of what I can only refer to as brightly-colored multi-media. I couldn't believe what I was looking at. Octavia stood in front of those tables staring at the spread like a rabbit caught in the headlights. I mean, she couldn't take her eyes off of it, she didn't even say 'hey' to me.

Just then this woman I had never seen before, the saleswoman, I presumed, came around the corner. She looked like an aging Pamela Anderson, all bleached blond hair and drawn-on eyebrows and huge fake boobs bursting out of her shirt. "You must be Sookie," she smoldered in this low smoker's voice. "Are you in for a treat."

"Excuse me," I said and went into the kitchen where I found Amelia standing at the sink with a half-empty bottle of Kendall Jackson cabernet in one hand and a wine glass in the other.

"What the hell," I started. She shook her head. "Get that woman and all that garbage out of here."

"I can't Sookie, the party starts in an hour, I've got guests and food prepared. Besides, Dolly in there drove all the way over from New Orleans."

"It's not just a few naughty accoutrements, Amelia. There's how-to manuals, instructional dvd's. I think I saw a copy of _Fetishes for Dummies_." She stared at me blankly. "It looks like a Hallmark truck crashed into a Triple X adult store out there. The woman hosed down my house with pink and purple porn!" My voice rose a little at this last bit.

She sank down into the kitchen chair and moaned. "I know I know, it's like I ordered a couple of Barbie dolls from Toys R Us and instead UPS delivered all of FAO Shwartz."

I leaned against the counter and folded my arms. I couldn't decide whether to be angry or panicked. "Who's coming, Amelia?"

"Well, there's Arlene, from your work, and a couple of the other waitresses, " she started guardedly, "Tara, your friend Madelyn from Shreveport, Jane Bodehouse, Maxine Fortenberry, that nice lady, what's her name, Barbara, from the library, Maxine's sister and her hairdresser, Kenya the police officer and her mom, your cousin Claudine, the cute girl from CVS who always talks to us and a couple of her friends, and of course Pam." Here she looked at me from under her lashes. I put my face in my hands and groaned. "Who else?"

"Your great-aunt Minnie, and a few ladies she knows from the Bon Temps Nursing Home who don't get out much," she added hastily. I lifted my head and glared at her. _Great-aunt_ _Minnie? _She was Gran's oldest sister, her only living sibling now that Uncle Bartlett was dead, and no one in the family could stand her, not even Gran. She worked for the phone company back when there were party lines and listened in on the whole town's phone calls. A hateful old gossip, we had been pretty much estranged for years.

"Just cancel the party. I say tell her you didn't understand and cancel it."

"Sookie, it would be rude, I can't. We're just going to have to make it through the evening somehow."

"I'll tell you what's rude," I said. "My grandmother's favorite soup tureen is on that table, filled to the brim with penis-shaped strawberry-flavored lollipops. That's rude."

"Oh, I forgot," she said. "Did you see the dick tacs?"

"Do what?"

"Dick tacs. They're tic tacs shaped like little tiny penises. I think Dolly put them in that Phaltzgraff gravy boat with the turkeys on it, the one you use at Thanksgiving."

My head started to pound.

Right then Dolly walked to the door. "Oh, Sookie, honey, are you nervous about the party?" she asked with a laugh. 'Don't worry, loosen up. Some folks freak out at first but they always come around. Americans need to have a more European attitude towards sex. It's like I tell all my customers; Everybody screws.' "

"Ma'am," I said with as much dignity as I could muster, "We're _Baptists." _

"Okay Miss 'We're Baptists'," Amelia said, trying to open another bottle of wine. "Why don't you have a couple of shots of Jagermeister and settle down."

"I'm leaving," I said, "and I'm not coming back until all this is over."

"Oh Sookie, there's nothing to worry about," Dolly patted me on the shoulder in a condescending manner. "We at Pure Cupid are very careful to never cross the line between healthy sex and perversion."

About that time I looked through the doorway and watched as Octavia broke out of her trance and reached for something on the table. She held up a pair of velvet covered handcuffs attached by a leather cord to what appeared to be a rhinestone-studded ring.

Time to take charge. "I can see how careful you are," I said. "I've had enough. You need to make a run to the liquor store," I told Amelia, "there's no way you're gonna have enough booze for this."

"And you," I said to Dolly, "You better get those penis pops and dick tacs out of my family's holiday china before Aunt Minnie gets here. That woman will skin you alive."

She stared at me in a haughty manner.

"I'm not kidding, lady." She huffed out.

I resigned myself to play the part and put on an apron. I got busy putting the hors d'oeuvres on plates while Amelia sent Wizno to buy more wine. She began making the punch for the tee-totalers and I continued to get food trays together. After a while I could hear guests starting to arrive. Amelia went out to greet while I took the last of the crab puffs out of the oven and got them on a tray. The kitchen door swung open and I caught a glimpse of the guests in the living room, spotting a couple of walkers and an oxygen tank right before Amelia and Octavia entered the room.

"It looks like a geriatric ward out there," I hissed, pinching Amelia on the arm. "Whoever put the guest list together needs to be bitch-slapped into the next dimension."

"Hey, read the sign," she grumbled and pointed to the fridge. Someone had taped my 'No pinching on Stackhouse Property' note on the door. "It's a small town, I didn't have a lot of choices."

Octavia made an exasperated sound. "Your guests are here, you two need to get out there."

I reluctantly entered my living room behind Amelia. There were women everywhere; covering the furniture and about fifteen or twenty fold up chairs, situated clear into the foyer. I saw Madelyn and Claudine seated next to each other and waved. I wondered how Pam was going to get in past the fairy guards.

When everyone settled Dolly stood in front of the tables in the dinning area and addressed the guests.

"Welcome to Pure Cupid, where we believe every woman has a God-given right to experience all three types of orgasm –." The CVS girls started giggling and I couldn't hear the rest. Amelia punched me in the arm. "What's the third one?" she whispered. "I don't know, I didn't hear her either," I whispered back. "Well, I need to know," she said. "Shut up and listen, we'll have to ask later." We got a couple dirty looks for talking. I sat back in my seat.

That old bat Minnie sat stoically in her purple flowered dress to my right, her hair freshly pin-curled and her purse in her lap. Her nursing home friends flanked her on either side. I leaned over for a perfunctory hug. "Good to see you, Aunt Minnie," I lied, bussing her cheek. "You too Sookie,"she returned insincerely. "Nice party." Amelia chortled.

Dolly went about demonstrating and describing products. Everyone started to loosen up after a bit of awkward questions and nervous laughter. I guess Dolly is right; everybody screws, or, at least, has screwed at some point in the last century. A strange sort of misfit camaraderie set in. Some of the women started broadcasting their wildest sexual experiences and fantasies and my head began to hurt a little more.

Dolly began passing the items around as she explained. With a devilish expression, she handed a jar of nipple-hardening cream to Gracie Oliver, who is at least eighty-five. Gracie, then, of course, turned to me. "What's this for?" she asked. "It's for hardening nipples," Arlene offered helpfully, "or for anything else you might care to …harden." The room tittered. "Put some on me and see if it works," Gracie said, tugging at the hem of her shirt. "Excuse me," I stood up and walked into the kitchen.

That tit monster Dolly followed me as I reached in the fridge and grabbed a beer.

"Oh, Sookie, we try to refrain from serving alcohol until after the demonstrations," she said. "Otherwise, things might get a little hairy." She raised her eyebrows and smiled.

"Look here missy," I retorted, "A, this is my house. And B, you're telling me I have to go back in there and listen to Maxine Fortenberry ask for *** sex tips, but I can't have a _Heineken_?" I screeched just a little at this point. Amelia then hurried into the room. "Sookie, what's wrong?"

I sat wearily at the table. "Sorry Amelia, it's just that those old ladies are broadcasting all their freaky memories, and it isn't pretty," I confessed. "Some of those women got wild back in the day. Still waters run deep, my friend." She laughed. "You've got to be kidding me," she said. "Those little old women with the gray hair and the bifocals?"

I nodded somberly. "You see that one there with the orthopedic shoes and the elastic support stockings rolled around her ankles?" She nodded. "She's the leader by far. She could teach us all a thing or two, even you, Dr. Ruth," I snarked at Dolly, who rolled her eyes and went back out to the living room.

A small knock at the kitchen door distracted me. Pam stood on the stoop, a black hooded cloak across her shoulders and around her face. "How'd you get past the guards without draining one?" I asked. "I cloaked," she said, indicating her cape. "It's a special garment designed to drown out fairy scent. Eric found them at The Sharper Supe Image dot com."

"Ill go tell Claudine," Amelia said. "She's going to hang outside with the guards while you're here."

"Eric's coming," Pam said without preamble. "What? How?" I stumbled.

"He knew they let you out for tonight and that this house wouldn't be warded so heavily because of the party, "she said. "He'll be here about 10:30. He said for you to meet him upstairs by your old bedroom window. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some shopping to do," She gave me a fangy smile and floated out to the living room.

I became flustered at the idea of seeing Eric, especially on this night. I busied myself serving food and drinks. The party continued to escalate and the women got louder and more raucous as time went on. People started scribbling all over their little order pads.

"Hey, when are those strippers coming in?" Jane Bodehouse asked, openly drinking from her purse flask. "What are you talking about, Jane?" I figured she was already wasted.

"There's a pile of half-naked men outside your house, when are they coming in to strip?" She waved a wad of cash in my face. "I'm ready." The crowd began to hoot and holler.

"Those aren't strippers," I quickly tried to calm everyone down. "They're…" What should I say they are?

"Those are some of Adele's old buddies, aren't they, Sookie?" Minnie asked with an evil expression on her face. "She always liked that ….type." My mouth dropped a bit as I stared at Minnie. She matched my gaze, her eyes intense. What does that old bag know? I filed it away for later. There was simply too much going on in the room to linger on Minnie's actions.

"This would still work on a short man, wouldn't it?" Octavia held up the cock ring contraption she'd been looking at earlier. "I mean, as long as his private parts are normal to large sized," she clarified. I raised my eyebrow at her. She studiously ignored me while waiting for Dolly's response. Upon confirmation, she grinned happily and wrote on her order form.

I sat in Claudine's seat next to Madelyn and grabbed her hand, "Hey, you," I said. She squeezed my palm. "How you doing sweetie?" She returned. "I'm already missing our lunches." We chatted a bit. "You didn't need to drive all the way from Shreveport just to come to this old thing," I said. She laughed. "Oh, honey, I just swung by here on my way home. I've been in New Orleans at the trade shows all week, and boy, did I come up with some finds for you." I smiled. She always made me feel calm and happy.

I checked the clock and saw it was nearly time for Eric. For some reason I became terribly nervous. It had only been a couple of days, but the thought that I couldn't see him had tormented me. I went up the stairs to my old room and opened the window. I stared out it, waited for my vampire. It was a few minutes later when he arrived.

I stood back quickly soon as he came into vision; he slid smoothly in through the frame and shrugged off his cloak in one motion. He gathered me up and laid one on me in true Eric style, leaving me breathless and of course wanting more. "Thank you for the cherries," I said, my voice muffled by his chest. I leaned back and peered at him. He looked terrific in a fitted slate gray tee and darker gray jeans, his eyes taking on the stormy tone of his clothes, his hair wind tossed and loose. He had flown and smelled like the night and outdoors. I wanted to bury myself in him.

"How'd you get past the guards?"

"I didn't. I bribed one," he said. "Fintan is furious that Niall allowed you to have this little shindig. He wants you back at the cabin ASAP."

"Have you learned anything?"

"You know about the leper colony?" he nodded.

"And the Fae splitting against themselves?"

" Yes" he said.

"Fintan and Niall are apparently on different sides, but I think Bruno is on ours." He looked grim. "He thinks Niall had been meeting with the Andromedas for the last few days at Carville."

"It's going to start soon, Sookie, be safe, keep up what you're doing, but be safe. I'm working with the Weres now, trying to get their help, and a few other things. Compton's in Europe still; I'm trying to get in touch with him, see if he can pull some help from over there." I tried to take all this in. He kissed me again, and I sank against him.

Amelia's voice broke through our reverie. "Sookie, we're killing down there, there's already two thousand dollars in orders," she practically skipped into the room.

"Your aunt Minnie's spent half her pension check." I did not want to even try to think about that.

"Oh, hey Eric," she said. "Sorry to disturb you, but your credit's two hundred dollars, Sook. Dolly needs you to put in your order."

My cheeks turned so red I thought they might explode. "Oh, okay, I'll be down in a minute."

Eric regarded me with great amusement. "Why so red my lover," he said. "Tell Amelia what you want."

"Don't tease me, mister," I warned. "I'll sic those women downstairs on you, and they're all so worked up by now they'll probably tear you limb from limb." He continued to smirk.

I took Amelia's arm and walked out the door and around the corner. "Okay, listen, there's a how-to manual for fellatio that's as thick as a bible on the media table," I whispered. "That Kenya's been eyeing it all night long. It's wrapped in plastic, so I couldn't thumb through it. Get me that before she grabs it, and just some oils and stuff, you pick it out." Her face lit up. "Just don't get me any of those weird vibrators, okay? Use your best judgment." She nodded and skittered down the steps. When I rounded back to my room Eric's expression told me he heard everything.

"Thank you for thinking of me, lover. What's so weird about the vibrators?" Eric asked, clearly enjoying himself. "You know, you might need one, if we're going to be separated for much longer…"

"Okay, Eric, you want to know what's weird, you really want to know, well, I'll tell you," I said, exasperated at his continual teasing and more than a little willing to spread my current misery around. "Some of the stuff's real cheap, it comes from China, and there's these two huge vibrators. One's bright blue, and is completely covered in pictures of Papa Smurf, and the other one is neon yellow, and it's covered in Pac Man symbols," here I ran out of gas and slumped down beside him on the windowsill. "I know you all think I'm innocent and prudish sometimes, and some things get lost in translation, but I don't understand. I just don't understand."

Eric looked at me, opened his mouth, and then shut it. I honestly think for once in his life, he did not know what to say. His lips twitched. "That is perhaps the most ridiculous thing I have heard in a long, long time," he said.

"I know," I said, gently elbowing him in the ribs. "I can't quit thinking about it. I mean, is Papa Smurf a sex symbol in China? Or do the Chinese think he's a sex symbol here?'" I continued, unrelenting. "And Pac Man," I lifted my hand and made the signature chomping motion in the air with my thumb and forefinger, "Is that supposed to be doing something for me?" I pressed home my point by opening my eyes wide. "Is it?"

Eric's lips twitched harder and then he let go and laughed, a real belly laugh, from deep within, right before he began to roar. I felt the hilarity of the evening bubbling up with in me, and I joined in. We both rocked back and forth, held our stomachs and laughed together, long and hard; we both needed it, and it felt so good. Tears ran down my face and he became quite pink around the eyes too. It took us a few minutes to settle down, still chuckling a little. I leaned against him, my head against his chest as we quieted, the errant giggle escaping here and there.

"Why can't you stay?" I said into his pectorals. "What's stopping us from flying away from here, from all this?"

"We could do that," he returned quietly. "But it would all be waiting when we got back." We sat together for a few minutes before he reluctantly stood up. "I have to go. I just wanted to see you for a moment if I could." I reached for his jeans and unbuttoned them.

"No time," he rasped.

I ignored him, going down on my knees as I pulled his jeans and boxers down with me. I took him all the way in my mouth. He hardened instantly, hitting the back of my throat, his hands buried in my hair and loosening the pins. I pulled forcefully, harder, deeper, faster.

"Sookie," he groaned, "Oh, Sookie, shit, God you're so good. " I continued to suck and move, fondling his balls, swirling my tongue. I grabbed him by the ass with both hands and pulled him in even farther, relaxing my throat more than I had ever known possible. He came with a strangled cry. "You're wasting your credit on that manual," he yelled as he clutched at me.

I stood slowly, and he was ready for me by the time I got up. "It's okay," I murmured, "no time, remember?"

He ignored me then. He stood me in the window frame as he sank to his knees. "I won't leave you like this," he whispered, pulling up my skirt and pushing my panties down. After four hours of sex toy talk and broadcasting, not to mention his kiss and what just happened, I was way past ready. He grunted as his tongue found me, lapping up my overflow of juices and sucking on my already swollen clit. He sucked, swirled and pulled much the way I had done him; I came twice within the space of about three minutes, hard, sobbing climaxes that left me drained.

He stood up regretfully. "I really do hate to go, my dove," he pulled me into his arms and buried his face in my hair. "I so do not want to."

"Why do you call me that now?"

"It suits you," he said simply. His eyes met mine, dark with longing. "Just do it," I said. He ripped from me like a band aid, then, and I gasped with the shock of it. Out the window he went, his cloak fluttering behind him.

I put myself back together and slowly went down the stairs. Octavia was at the bottom, folding up the chairs in the foyer. She gave me a knowing, sarcastic glance.

"Don't look at me like that, brownie humper," I said airily as I sailed past. "Everybody screws." She met my eyes and smiled. A genuine, happy smile. I stopped in my tracks, instantly befuddled. "I'll be damned," I muttered, then grinned big back. She slapped at my behind as I walked by. I went in the kitchen and started washing dishes in an inexplicably cheerful manner. Madelyn, one of the last guests to leave, came up behind me and gave me a hug. "Call me," she said, and I nodded, hugging her back.

The eleven o'clock news drifted in from the living room. "A new flu strain has been identified in the Big Easy," the ubiquitous blond anchor's peppy voice informed. "Doctors are a little surprised by such a late arrival in the season, and seem baffled by the new strain, which they describe as very unusual. There is no shot available yet, though they say they are trying to identify the source of this new development…."

And, just as she walked out the front door, Madelyn gave a small, but significant cough.

********************

**A/N Hee hee, forgive me, I recently attended one of those parties and I had to share my pain. There was no alcohol, but I spent most of the evening sitting in a big old recliner, holding a paper plate full of seven-layer dip and sausage balls and laughing my ass off. And yes, the room was full of geriatric patients; they were the most fun of all. **

**Anyhow, Charlaine's next book is out next week and I'm needing some encouragement here. Kinda scared the real story will have developments that make my current one lame. So, if you like it, and want me to go on, please review! I hate to sound needy, but I expected to have been finished by now, so, I guess I'm a little concerned. Need a new attitude. You guys are great, I'm still on target with the diet, everybody keep the faith, happy Friday and have a great weekend :) Misscyn**

**PS If you want to read the family history behind 'dove' and 'Everybody screws' check out my profile, it's the 4/25 post...**


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26 **

Just a cough. Nothing to panic about. Except that's exactly what I did.

Let me just take a minute here to say that I can't stand, absolutely can't stand, people who freak out about germs. That damn Arlene's one of those types, running around with the hand sanitizer and cans of Lysol during cold and flu season, screaming at anyone who sneezes or happens to mention that they don't feel well. "Don't give it to me! I don't want it!" she shrieks, like anyone 'wants' it, hello. I work with the public, germs are everywhere, take your vitamins and wash your hands, c'est la vie, right? But this is a little different.

This is life or final death, for my Viking, for my vampire friends, and maybe some humans too.

I stared at the front door after it shut behind Madelyn, my mind whirling. Amelia approached me, a plastic bag of goodies over her arm. "Here's your stuff and your blow job book," she said, a dimple creasing her cheek. "Although word on the street is you wasted your credit on it."

I grabbed her arm and then quickly dropped it. "Sweetie, I need your help, please. Wash your hands, put on some gloves, and start bleaching all surfaces. Madelyn may have been in contact with the flu," I said softly. "Dolly's from New Orleans too, and that's where it's starting. Send Octavia to the store for Lysol, zinc, Echinacea, vitamin C and Zicam and some of that stuff that teacher came up with that fights bugs, Air Borne or something like that. See if we have any leftover Tamiflu. I have to jump in the shower."

Before she could respond I bounded up the stairs. I washed my hands up to my elbows carefully, scrubbing with the nail brush. I removed my clothes and put them in a plastic bag. I took five grams of vitamin C and flushed my nose with saline, then brushed my teeth and gargled with Listerine. I jumped in the shower and scrubbed every inch of my body with the hottest water I could stand and antibacterial soap, again and again. When I got out I sat down on my bed in a towel and called Eric from one of the prepaid cell phones.

"You heard about the flu," I launched in when he answered.

"Yes." I could hear the noises of Fangtasia in the background.

"Madelyn coughed as she was leaving."

He became quiet for a minute. "That doesn't necessarily mean she has it. Have you talked to her?"

"Not yet."

"Call her and get her symptoms." He seemed amazingly calm.

"Eric, tell me what you know. I may have been exposed, it's the least you can do."

Surprisingly, he did as I asked. "From what we know, it's a mutation of the 1918 Spanish Flu. The Andromedas chose it because it made a dent in the vampire population back then, and that was unwittingly. They've tweaked it and made it even more potent."

"Seems like a strange choice for them to make, being that vampires don't breathe."

"No, but they are infected when they drink the blood of an infected human. We don't have a respiratory system, so the symptoms aren't the same in us. The flu creates what is known as a cytokine storm; for humans, the Spanish flu was more deadly to healthy people than the infants, the elderly or infirm, because it turns the person's own immune system against itself. In humans, the lungs collapse. In vampires, our immune system is centered in our blood; as you know, its healing properties are extreme." He paused here for my response.

"Yes."

"Normally, very little of a flu virus is passed through the blood. Even so, as I mentioned before, this particular flu did manage to kill a few vamps, which must have given them the idea. The Andromedas have mutated and strengthened the blood response so not only is the virus blood-borne from human to vampire, but also so that the cytokine storm in vampires turns the blood against itself. The vampire body virtually self-destructs as a result. It is a quick death, Sookie. Once infected, chances of recovery are nearly non-existent.

"The very clever Andromedas have found a way to turn our healing properties against us. I could almost admire them for their resourcefulness, if they weren't trying to destroy my kind."

I tried to absorb this information. "So humans catch this flu the normal way, but vampires get it through the blood, because of the Andromedas' mutations?"

"Yes."

"What do we do now?"

"We wait. I do what I'm doing and you do what you're doing."

"Eric, how are you going to feed?" I hated asking him this, but it was bugging me. "You didn't bite me tonight. Was it because of the bug?"

"No."

"Then why?"

Silence again. "Because I don't need that much blood. And because even though I love the way you taste, it's not the only reason we are together."

"Well, how are you going to feed with this virus out? The people who come to clubs aren't always the cleanest and…."

He interrupted. "If you must know, I've been supplementing with banked blood lately, so it won't matter for a while. That blood is screened, and hasn't had time to be infected, but pretty soon, I won't be able to trust it. I drink as much True Blood as I can stomach."

"Why are you drinking banked blood?" I asked, genuinely puzzled. "I told you I was okay with you feeding as long as you didn't have sex."

If I didn't know better I would say he was more than a little uncomfortable with this conversation. "It doesn't seem right," he said after a minute.

Well, as long as we're talking about it, let's talk about it. "So for how long?"

"Since the night in the hotel." His voice became gruff and I could sense his tenseness.

The night in the hotel? How many weeks ago was that? For some reason, I felt angry.

"I told you it was okay with me for you to feed, Eric."

"Feeding and sex are closely related for us, you know that. Do not forget that we are bonded." He started to say something and then stopped. "I don't want to drink from anyone else, Sookie," this almost bitterly, like he didn't think he should have to explain it.

"Oh." I felt somewhat abashed. Eric wouldn't feed from anyone else, yet had been trying to limit his feeding from me, in order to show me he valued me as more than dinner? Where did all that come from? Is it possible that he cared that much about me? Surely not, Sookie, I admonished myself, don't be so naïve. I immediately went on the offensive.

"You don't seem very upset by the fact that I may have been exposed to the Andromeda's flu."

"It's not time to get upset yet. You do all you can to stay healthy, and I'll do the same." Mr. Pragmatic. "I do find it curious that Niall was willing to let you have a party this evening, and Fintan was not." I mulled over that for a minute. Just then Bruno began banging on my bedroom door.

"Sookie, Fintan said the house has been compromised," he urged. "You have to get back to the cabin now."

"I'll call you back," I told Eric. "Just let me get dressed," I called to Bruno.

"No time," he said, apparently the mantra of the evening, and he popped through the door. "Fintan said now." Before I knew it, the fairy had me in his arms, still in a towel, and pop! we were back at the cabin.

"You're awful cute when you're wet," he grinned, setting me down on the front porch.

"Even if you're infected with a deadly virus."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically as I entered the door. "Where's Rex?"

"One of your guests pulled him into her car for a rendezvous."

Eww. "I hope it wasn't Pam. Isn't he worried about the flu?"

"Nah. Fairies can't get this flu," he said nonchalantly.

Huh. I pondered on that while I dressed for bed. I called Typhoid Maddie on her cell phone. She assured me she felt down, but believed it was due to allergies and all the springtime pollen. I wasn't so sure.

So I found myself back at square one, trapped in the cabin, trying to figure things out without going anywhere. I went back over the events and conversations of the past few days. I stuck my head out the door to find Rex and Bruno on the front porch. Rex had a hickey on his neck. I decided I didn't really need to know who gave it to him.

"If you two talk to Fintan tonight, tell him I would like to see him," I said as nicely as I could. "Tomorrow morning, if possible, okay?" They nodded and I went to bed.

The next morning I awoke strangely energized. I made French toast from some letftover bread with blackberries and raspberries in a butter and rum sauce and topped with fresh whipped cream for my guards. We were breakfasting al fresco once again when Fintan showed up.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" I offered him a cup of coffee and a plate of French toast.

"No," he said, with a small smile. His blue eyes squinted in the sun as he took the plate, his gray/blond hair ruffling in the slight morning breeze. Instantly I was transported back twenty years, to a time when my father stood at this table in much the same manner as my mother handed him his dinner. My breath caught in my throat at the memory.

Rex and Bruno finished and excused themselves. "How very domestic you are becoming," Fintan observed. "Your guards aren't going to want to leave at the end of this assignment."

"Which will be when?"

"I wish I knew, Sookie." He sounded like he really meant it. He looked around; Bruno and Rex were lounging on the front porch. "Rex," he said, "could you go to the farm and check on Sookie's meal delivery? Someone is getting slack on the job if she had to fix leftovers for breakfast this morning." Without a word, Rex disappeared.

"No, there's plenty of food, I just like to make French toast," I protested. "I wanted Rex out of here," Fintan said. "He's aligned himself with Niall. Bruno's our guy."

Bruno waved.

"Sookie, this is where things stand right now," here he gripped my hands and leaned over the table, staring me in the face intently. "No supernatural being – no being, supernatural or not, really – would create a virus without creating an antidote, do you understand what I am saying?"

I nodded. "Guess so. So you think the Andromedas have a treatment for this virus?"

"Yes. They must have known it would be necessary to contain the flu if it got out of hand with an inoculation for humans, and to cure its effects on vampires; you see, the virus dies very quickly after entering the vampire's blood stream, but not before it sets the wheels in motion. A vampire cannot pass on live virus to anyone else. The blood turns against itself, the virus dies, and soon after, so does the vampire. "

"Why is this all significant to me?"

"Because we think Niall may have knowledge of the human treatment and the vampire cure. In face of his allowing you to be exposed last night, we think he felt confident that you would either not be infected, or that you could be treated if you were. And that if you were, all they would have to do is let you pass it on the Viking, and then heal you."

This was a lot to absorb. My great-grandfather deliberately exposed me to a potentially fatal virus, hoping I would give it to Eric? My heart sank at the very concept. It occurred to me that during this conversation, Fintan was assuming I had considerable prior knowledge.

"Are you working with Eric?" I asked on a hunch. Fintan nodded.

"The Viking is being extremely helpful," he admitted. "He brings a good deal to the table, in the way of knowledge, contacts, and expertise. Of course, it's in his best interest to do so," he added hastily when I looked pleased.

"What is your course of action? What are you doing about all this?"

"I'm trying to convince my father to act right, that's what I'm doing. But he's a tough nut to crack."

"Tell me about Adele." I figured there's no time like the present.

He looked hesitant once again. "Some other time, Sookie. We have enough to deal with now."

"Nope," I said firmly. "Tell me what it was like, what it really meant."

He got up and paced a bit. "I'm more than seven hundred years old, Sookie. I have known many women. Adele Hale was the greatest affair of my life."

"When I met her – I had been sent – Niall told me he wanted me to meet her, perhaps" his eyes met mine here. "Perhaps use my charms, make her like me."

Okay, broken record here. I felt my spine stiffen. Then again, I had to remind myself, that whole thing Niall told me about how Fintan 'wandered into the yard and was instantly stuck with Adele's beauty' never really rang true.

"Why?"

"You know that your telepathy didn't come from your fae side, Sookie."

I felt like he was playing me for a fool. "My grandmother was not telepathic."

"We'll come back to that. I used magic at first, but soon I fell in love. Adele felt the same way, I always knew she did, but she held herself back from me."

"Why did you agree to father children, knowing another man would raise them?"

He looked rueful. "Selfish reasons, Sookie. I wanted to tie myself to her anyway I could. And the prospect of having mostly human children was not unacceptable to me. I thought maybe one day she would come around, and we could be a family."

He seemed wistful for a moment, then paused at my expression.

"I know, not very smart or honorable. She was very upfront with me, making it clear I wasn't much more than a donor." He huffed a little. I did not know what to say.

"I need to go Sookie," he leaned in and hugged me, taking me by surprise. He walked off a little ways and spoke low to Bruno, then disappeared.

I stared at the table for a few minutes, lost in my own head. Bruno walked over without a word and began clearing the table. I stood up to help. After I washed the dishes I picked up my cell phone. I couldn't believe I was doing it, but before I could second-guess myself I dialed Minnie's number.

"Well hello, Sookie, I thought I might be hearing from you soon." She sounded irritatingly self-satisfied. I could just imagine her sitting on that faded rose velvet sofa of hers in the old white clapboard house on Gardenia Boulevard. She'd probably been staring at the phone all morning, knowing I would call.

"Spill it, Minnie." My voice brooked no argument.

"Now, is that any way to talk to your elders?" she nearly cackled. "I know Adele taught you better than that. "

"Tell me about Gran and Fintan. Tell me now. I need to know it all."

Minnie gave a heavy sigh. "She loved that damn fairy, Sookie."

"Go on."

"Not much to tell, she loved Fintan, but she was too stubborn to leave Mitchell Stackhouse. Said she didn't trust the other world. Horse hockey, if you ask me."

"I'm asking, Minnie."

"Adele had a great sense of adventure. The supernatural world fascinated her. She wasn't scared of that. It was just an excuse.

"Scared, that's what she was, scared and loyal to a fault. She was frightened of what people around here would say if she left her husband. She didn't think he deserved it, he treated her well. She was also scared of becoming old and Fintan getting tired of her. She let all her fears and trepidations keep her from doing what she really, in her heart, wanted to do."

I got it. My grandmother had her own little supernatural 'Bridges of Madison County' going on with Fintan. She loved him and wanted to be with him, but would not leave her husband, because he was a good man who deserved better; also, because it was just easier not to rock the boat, socially and otherwise. She used Fintan's fae status as a convenient excuse. To be honest, did I have any right to judge her at all? Was I doing the same think with Eric? Using the fact that he is vampire as a reason to hold back?

"How do you know so much about this?" I challenged. "How have you been involved in the supernatural world?"

"You and I have more in common than you realize, Sookie," she said, decidedly smug.

"And how would that be, Aunt Minnie?"

"Let's just say I didn't learn everything I know about people in this town by listening in on party lines," she quipped, then hung up the phone.

*******************

**A/N Thank you for all the positive responses. I really do want to finish this story, as I have already written a delectable ending, if I do say so myself-----anyway, I was just trying to gauge interest, and again, thank you for your reviews. They are truly a gift and do mean so much to me. I have updated my profile for those following the diet saga; there's dirt and confessions in this week's episode ; )**


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the SVM universe. They all belong to Charlaine Harris. I do not own the beautiful Marquez brothers; they belong to the absolutely fabulous and currently MIA Ann Madison. Wherever you are Ann, God bless. We do miss you so.

**Chapter 27**

I dialed her right back. "It's not nice to hang up on people, Minnie," I said. "It seems like someone would have taught you better than that by now."

"I'm old, I get through talking, I hang up," she said unashamedly. "There aren't too many perks with age, I take advantage of them all."

"So you think because you're old you get to hang up on people without repercussions?'

"Yep. That's the way I see it." No point in arguing with this woman; she'd always been completely incorrigible. Come to think of it, it felt a lot like arguing with Eric.

"I don't believe we have finished this conversation."

"Well, if you want to know any more, you'll have to come see me in person."

"I can't, Minnie. I'm under quarantine because of the flu. Fintan's sent two fairy guards to either keep me in or keep other people out, I'm not sure exactly which."

"Fintan, eh? That old dog. Mmmph. Well, I'm not saying anything over the phone. They're not safe; remember where I used to work. And you know you haven't come to see me in years. You and Jason have just left me here to rot. I don't have any kids. I'm your only living relative in Bon Temps besides your brother now, Sookie. You should treat me better."

I didn't have the time or the patience to play emotional hostage. That old hag knew exactly why Jason and I didn't pay her visits.

"You never really seemed to care, Minnie. Visits work two ways. Are you going to talk to me or not?"

"Come see me, Sookie. We'll have a nice little chat." I groaned and said my goodbye through gritted teeth. I had a test in my online course coming up and Alcide needed me to work on a politically correct way to handle the virus in press releases. He also wanted me to revamp (ha ha) the online Were newsletter. I distracted myself with work for the rest of the day.

I never took sick, and neither did Madelyn. The virus response developed the way they always do, you know the drill. All the usual panic ensued over what the CDC decided to dub the Second Inquisition flu, S.I.Q. for short. We didn't have TV at the cabin so we watched the news through my laptop. The media kept running footage and photos of people wearing those surgical masks on the street; although I suspected they've been showing the same footage every time a new flu strain is identified for years. We heard daily random reports of people dying, a woman in Baton Rouge, another child in Lafayette. A deep feeling of unrest pervaded as doctors and experts alike made it clear this was no ordinary pathogen.

My conversations with Eric became shorter and more strained. Two vampires visiting from California bit flu victims before Eric could explain anything them; they died within hours. His voice and demeanor on the phone took on the tone of someone who blamed himself, and heavily. After one particularly down exchange I ate that whole damn box of chocolate covered cherries in one sitting; they were loaded up with enough rum to make me feel kind of lit. It didn't help, and I gained four pounds overnight.

My days at the cabin took on a surreal quality. I felt like we were caught in a water globe, stuck in place while the rest of the world moved over and around us. Time stood still except for the news streams at the bottom of the screen. I never heard from Niall. Fintan called intermittently, sounding weary and stressed. Rex and Bruno began to bicker, and I started to snap at them more and more as we tired of our sheltered existence.

We lived like this for a while, two weeks, three, it started to run together, until I felt that I quite literally would explode at any minute. The air itself felt heavy, moist and stale, as if caught in our bubble, we had breathed it in and expelled it again a thousand times already. The virus spread to other states; as more people sickened, more vampires died.

Octavia and Amelia managed to stay well. Merlotte's stayed open even though the waitress who replaced me, Regina, caught the flu at a weekend party in Shreveport. Sam sent her home quickly, closed down for an evening while he disinfected, and no one else got it. Because I had no choice, I let Wizno put my seedlings into the ground, even though I really wanted to do it myself, and with Eric.

I continued to spend my days glued to the computer screen, researching the news and flu, talking to Eric as much as I could. He wouldn't say it, but I knew he found de Castro's response to the disaster to be lackluster and un-inspired. It almost seemed to me that the new king didn't care if the Louisiana vampires were killed off, although I knew better than to mention this to Eric. The man was nothing if not loyal once he pledged his fealty. Six more vampires died after an infected private affair in New Orleans. Eric closed down Fangtasia for an undisclosed amount of time the very next day.

My suspicions about de Castro's perspective were confirmed the following Tuesday evening when Eric called right after sunset.

"De Castro went back to Nevada last night." My mind struggled to get a purchase on what he was saying.

"Oh, the big rat deserted the sinking ship along with the others," I remarked before I could stop myself. Victor Madden and Sandy had gone days before.

"He pretty much left me in charge." I could detect excitement and determination in Eric's confident tone.

"Which means?"

"Which means we're going to fight this thing my way now." A glimmer of hope sprung from my depths the way a new blade of grass pokes up through the soil.

"I'm going to need your help." He told me what he needed and I set about getting it. I stayed up until about four in the morning making phone calls and researching, but when I went to sleep, I felt a peace and hope that had been missing.

I slept late the next day. When I got up I worked some more on Eric's project and some other tasks I had to complete for my actual job. I hardly talked to Rex and Bruno, who both all but grunted at me when they brought in my coffee and croissants. Around noon Octavia and Wizno showed up pushing a wheelbarrow. I walked outside to see them standing at the edge of the moss circle, Wizno with that crazy mad smile on his face.

"We brought up a couple tomato and cucumber plants, Miss Sookie, for you to put in the ground up here," he said. "I'm trying to cheer you, " he added at my confused expression. I opened my mouth to refuse it when Octavia spoke. "Just take it, Sookie, it won't hurt," she smiled. I nodded and walked over to the edge. "Let up the ward for a second." I hollered at Bruno, who begrudgingly complied. I took the wheelbarrow from Wizno, thanking him. I watched as he and Octavia walked back down the hill. He took her elbow to steady her when she wobbled on a rocky part of the path. For some stupid reason that tore me up. "I do believe I'm losing my mind up here," I mumbled, my throat swelling a bit.

I looked in the wheelbarrow and saw it contained the plants as well as a little shovel and a bag of dirt. I got the plants in the ground in a sunny spot right by the cabin. He was right; it did cheer me up and calm me somewhat. I walked over to the creek to wash my hands. "Lift the ward again," I called. Bruno and Rex were arguing heatedly again by the front door and didn't even look at me as Rex raised his arm.

I buried my hands up to the wrists in the cool wetness. I stayed in that position, bemused, as I watched a grown crawfish, nearly three inches in length, and three tiny ones, about as big as my thumbnail, swimming against a patch of white sand and pebbles under the water. I smiled, remembering how Jason and I would catch crawfish from this creek when we were kids for dinner, and then release them because we couldn't bear for Gran to boil them. Just as I shook off my reverie and started to stand up, I saw the reflections in the water.

Two faces, one male and one female, stared back at me.

The man leaned over, grabbed me by the wrists, and pulled me to his side of the creek, out of the ward, before I could do anything but scream. The woman held what looked like a giant collapsible playpen made of thin iron slats; in seconds she pulled it around and over us, all three caught inside.

Bruno and Rex flashed to right in front of us. Their bodies melded into the air around them and they became two orbs of flaming light. The orbs made angry, shooting, hissing sounds as they shot around the iron cage.

"We just want to talk to her, fairies," the man warned. "Don't do anything stupid. I'll drain her before your feet hit the ground."

The orbs circled us, warily, but not touching or advancing any further. I was struck by the beauty of the two beings that held me. They did look very European, slim, and taller than humans, exquisitely sharp and fine bone structure, almost white-blond hair. I stared into the unsettling blue eyes, clear and light in shade; no humanity there.

"Sit," the man said graciously, for all the world as if I was a guest in his home. The three of us settled on the ground, our legs cross-legged, knees nearly touching. "We just want to converse with you for a moment," he smiled. "I'm John, and this is Mary." I almost laughed at the ridiculously obvious Christian aliases.

"We want you to know we won't harm you," the woman said. She tried to smile and I saw her teeth and shuddered. All of the edges were sharp like a sharks'. "We will harm no telepaths; you will be very useful to us in the future."

"You know who we are?" John asked in a friendly manner, still acting like this was some kind of social call.

I nodded. "Andromedas," I stated grimly.

"Exactly. And you are the famed Sookie Stackhouse, telepath and blood-bonded of esteemed vampire Eric Northman. We anticipate the need for your abilities with the human population to avoid problems. Also due to your supernatural contacts and your attachment to the Viking vampire, we'd like to use you as kind of an ambassador for our cause." He looked at me for a response, and got none.

"We can stop this flu from affecting vampires anytime we want," John shrugged. "They will continue to die until we do. We are willing to let a few select vampires survive, as long as they promise to make no more children, with certain provisions."

"We've been researching your planet for some time now," Mary said. I really, really wished she would quit trying to smile. "To be frank, it's a mess." As much as I wanted to, I couldn't deny that.

"Humans and vampires alike don't need to look at us as a bad thing. We are a more highly evolved being, and we have seen your troubles before. In return for our sustenance, we intend to work with global leaders and help the human race very much. We will keep the people healthy, and fertile, only claiming what we absolutely have to have to thrive." She looked at me expectantly. "Go on," I said, my blood running a little cool.

"We have many, many resources. We can fix the mortgage and healthcare crisis. Pay off China, the national debt. Our scientists can go a long way to curing and preventing cancer, diabetes, cardiovascular disease." She paused again.

"Keep selling it, sister." She grimaced, just a little. John spoke next.

"As far as our sustenance - we can first get rid of society's unwanted – your murderers, rapists, child molesters, all gone. We'll empty your prisons. End the war overseas overnight. Do away with the population of the Middle East and give the oil fields to the United States. What great leader could refuse when we offer him Dubai on a platter?"

He went on. "We'd shore up Mexico's economy, make it a wealthy, viable nation, so the illegal immigrant problems would cease to exist. Our research determined undiscovered vast oil and gold reserves in that country; the affluent Mexican people will eventually scoff at the very notion that life in the U.S. could be better; in fact, Americans will soon want to move there. As the population is largely Catholic, and prolific, for our own reasons, we wouldn't want to harm that potential for regeneration."

I briefly wondered if the Aryan race had been related to the Andromedas in some way. Both blond and blue-eyed…

"We could get rid of problem personalities, Ann Coulter, Rush Limbaugh, Paris Hilton, Dr. Phil," Mary offered brightly.

God help me, I know it was completely inappropriate, and I am most likely going to hell for even thinking it, but I could not help but give pause at Dr. Phil. Never to hear that flinty voice again…I shook my head and reprimanded myself internally. These things are talking worldwide genocide, Sookie. Focus.

"Just give us the means to survive, and we could live peacefully together," she concluded.

"We have already made offers in Europe to both vampire and human coalitions. England and France are leaning our way. We plan to leave the Marquez brothers in control of Spain if they agree," John said.

"They're just too scrumptious to let die on the vine," Mary said with a wink.

"Your sheriff Eric Northman is an old, old acquaintance of mine," he said. "Some wonder why he is not king; I know Northman to be a shrewd vampire. Now that de Castro has left him to his own devices we have great hope.

"He knows being king would leave him too much under the Sword of Damocles for his own good, and the Viking has always valued his own survival over power. But we think we can persuade him, that with everything we have to offer, it would be imprudent to not take advantage. And as I'm sure you are well aware, your Viking is an extremely prudent man."

Everything they said, and everything they hadn't said, hit me. You know that feeling you have when you're a kid, and someone says something really wrong, just really, really wrong, be it sexual, or illegal, or whatever, and it feels like they cracked an imaginary egg on top of your head, and all the bad feelings start to run down the inside of your skull? The feeling drips past your eyes, and your vision blurs; hits your throat, and it feels like you swallowed a brick; goes down past your heart and lungs, which just hurt, and settles in your stomach, where it feels like a rock. That's what happened to me then.

"You said you know him," I said after a moment. My voice sounded shaky. I hated that. "Why don't you talk to him yourself?"

"We'd like for him to see how easily we can get to you, Sookie." Mary didn't try to smile then.

"We want the Viking to be – motivated," John concurred.

I wanted out of that cage possibly more than I have ever wanted out of anywhere in my life, and that includes the trunk of the Lincoln with Bill.

The orbs were getting impatient and started shooting fire sparks into the cage. They landed on my skin and burned me. The Andromedas seemed unperturbed. An awful thought occurred to me.

"How did you find me? Did you hurt my friends down at the house?"

"Not yet. We don't have a lot of time or patience, Sookie. If we don't get the answer we want, be assured that those you care about will be in extreme peril. From what I hear of you, that would be highly distressing. You really have no choice."

My temper got the best of me then. I jumped up, fists by my sides.

"That's not the way I see it. It's like I've told the vampires before, and I'm telling you now; never forget that you need us to survive, not the other way around."

Johns' eyes flashed. Mary snarled. They both jumped to their feet, inhumanly fast, I might add.

"We need you the same way you need a pot roast," John ground out, grabbing my arm. He opened his mouth slightly so I could see his grill o' fangs. "I've heard you're part fairy," he wrinkled his nose. "Don't really care for it, but I suppose I could suffer through."

He dragged his teeth along my skin, tearing the flesh into multiple little ruts. It hurt, but it terrified more.

He let go and made what I think was an attempt at a laugh, truly mirthless in nature. Both he and Mary lifted up the edge of the cage and pushed me out. Bruno and Rex immediately materialized and pulled me back into the ward. As quickly as they appeared, the Andromedas were gone.

************

**A/N Thank you once again for all your support. It's gettin' fun now, eh? Just so you know, reviews really piss Andromedas off……..; )**

**PS The diet saga "As Cindy Starves" is updated on my profile page, thanks for caring, it means so much.**

**PPS My beta has been super busy and the last few chapters have been self-edited, and I'm getting a little nervous about that so--if anyone's willing, please let me know :)**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N Thank you to all of my wonderful readers. I would never do this without your encouragement and support. A special thanks to Wanda W. for beta'ing this chapter so quickly and thoroughly, you've got my back girl :)**

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the SVM universe. They belong to Charlaine Harris, and I am just amusing myself and hopefully a few others here. Contains spoilers from the first eight books, the short story 'Gift Wrap" and the first chapter of Dead and Gone only. Now on with the show…

**Chapter 28**

I rolled in the grass and leaves with Rex and Bruno as they pulled me clear. I laid there for a moment, just trying to get my breath. Bruno got up on his haunches (not wise, leather skirt again, might as well have been a loincloth) and checked my arm. "You okay?" he asked gently.

"I think he just scraped it," I gingerly looked at the wounds. My arm looked like a tiny chainsaw had ripped across it. "Why did he do that?"

"Blood offense to challenge the Viking, perhaps?" Rex guessed. Bruno nodded, brooding now. He stood up and walked away, for which I was grateful. "Fintan's going to kill us," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I'd be more worried about Eric," I mumbled, my arm beginning to throb.

"He can't get here until dark. Fintan will arrive first." Bruno leaned against a tree and rubbed his face with his hands. I got to my feet, a little wobbly. "I need to go clean the wound and put some Neosporin on it." The despondent guards nodded.

When I got it bathed it didn't look that bad. I put the ointment on it and covered it with the biggest bandage I could find. It looked like one they put over a new tattoo. I started to feel a little woozy and sat down on the sofa, then laid back and closed my eyes, just for a moment. A few minutes later I heard Fintan's voice outside.

I went to the door and found a strange scene before me, and I have become the queen of strange scenes. Fintan was there, seated at the picnic table, with Bruno and Rex standing before him, hands behind their backs. He had a short, round tin in his left hand, in which he was dipping a tiny spoon and flicking its contents at Rex and Bruno. When it touched them the flesh smoked and burned; their legs and torso had a few crater-like bleeding wounds already. The guards stood stoically. They hardly flinched, but I knew it had to hurt like hell.

I walked closer to the table and looked more closely at the jar. Robert Rothschild's Particularly Peppy Lemon Zest.

"What's going on here?" I demanded, although it was pretty obvious. My newly-discovered half-fairy grandfather Fintan, dressed casually in khakis and a summer blazer, was flicking gourmet lemon zest at my Royal Fae guards with a demitasse spoon. Of course. What else would he be doing?

"They didn't do their jobs," he said matter-of-factly. "They need to be punished."

"Not on my property they don't," I said firmly. "No one's getting their flesh burned off at this cabin. I'm not watching it and I'm not smelling it. You take your screwed-up fairy shit somewhere else."

"Such language, granddaughter." Fintan did his best to level me with a look. He stared me full in the face and again I was struck with his uncanny physical similarity to my father, the aqua blue eyes, the tanned skin so like mine. I felt like I was seven years old again and just got caught riding my bicycle to the ice cream stand without permission, but I held my ground.

"Not here," I said again, louder, more forcefully. "I will not be a party to it, even by complicity."

"It has to be here," he said coldly. "We cannot leave you unguarded again. All of the fairy guard has been called into service and there are no more soldiers to spare."

"And how, exactly, are these two supposed to effectively guard me when you have burned quarter-sized holes all over their bodies?" I didn't attempt to hide my sarcasm. "Will that not weaken them at least a little until they heal? Will leaving them in such a state not compromise my protection?"

Fintan scowled at me heavily, and then seemed to come to an internal conclusion. He wiped down the spoon and slowly screwed the top back on the lemon zest, then slid them both into his pocket. I wondered if he carried that around all the time. Being half-human, perhaps lemon didn't burn him the same way.

"It is your property, granddaughter," he conceded. "What I have done here is only a taste of what is to come." He glared at Rex and Bruno. "I will punish you. You will be brought up before the fairy commission. My couriers will make you aware of the court date, if you live that long after the Viking finds out what happened. Until then, carry on."

Rex and Bruno turned and walked into the cabin, I suppose to tend to their wounds. Fintan gave me a sideways glance. "You are too much like Adele," he said ruefully. "I let you make me look weak in front of the guards because of it. I have to be firm with them. Even though I am royal, I am half-human; they will easily feel contempt if I show vulnerability. But the way you look like her and speak like her - it sidetracks me sometimes, especially when you are argumentative. Takes me back forty years. I spent a great deal of time arguing with that woman, more than any other woman I have ever known." His demeanor became reflective. "I do miss her so."

I felt a sudden rush of affection for Fintan at this admission. On an impulse I reached across the table and laid my hand over his. "There's a whole lot there to miss," I smiled. "I spent a great deal of time arguing with that woman myself." He gripped my hand lightly, and we had a moment.

"Do you know my great-aunt Minnie?" I asked on impulse.

His eyes widened. "Do I know her? That old she-goat can't still be alive," he stated in disbelief.

"Alive and kicking, and tells me she has some valuable information about my heritage."

"Oh bloody hell," Fintan spoke almost with despair. I had no sympathy. Secrets and lies, secrets and lies. I couldn't take anymore, no one in my life wanted to be honest with me. It's to the point where I'm getting a complex, seriously.

I waited. He sighed. "I will stay the day,' he said. "I have some calls to make." He pulled out his cell phone.

Well, it's not like I expected him to open up right there on the spot, but I still felt a little disappointed. I went back inside the cabin, having work to do. I got back to making phone calls and working on the internet. The fairies acted a little chagrinned so I stayed out of their way.

I'd been at it about an hour when I clicked on CNN for the news. "The CDC just declared the SIQ flu an official pandemic after reports of new cases nearly tripled in the last 24 hours," the attractive male anchor relayed. "The medical community is baffled at the increase and the speed in which this virus is spreading. The CDC reports that SIQ is becoming more virulent and deadly at an extremely alarming rate across the country, particularly in the southern states. Mandatory school closings are in effect for…."

I startled as I felt a hand on my shoulder. "They timed their visit with this," Fintan said, nodding at the screen. "More humans are dying too. They've amped it up. After this week the human count will be in the hundreds, for vampires…." he sat down in the chair beside me. "The vampires won't get it if they don't feed from humans, Sookie. The story they've been selling ever since they came out is that they don't need human blood as long as they have synthetic. So, every time one of them dies from the flu it is evidence of human blood consumption. It's going to become painfully obvious to the hate groups just how much vampires actually do feed, a bellwether, you understand?" I nodded. This thing had way too many levels.

I dialed Lance to call in a favor. He said he'd help, albeit reluctantly. "You're deep in it now, aren't you Sookie," he said softly. I didn't respond.

The sun hadn't set fifteen minutes when I felt calm wash through the bond, an unsettling feeling. Eric was coming, and he felt he needed to comfort me in advance enough to open the bond. This couldn't be good.

Fintan stayed in the cabin, still working his phone. I went outside and waited. I looked away for just a second when I heard a bird make a call and when I turned my head back I saw him. Eric stood on the other side of the creek, prepared, I realized with a start, for battle. He'd braided his hair and wore dark brown fatigues, a long sleeved brown thermal, and heavy boots. Several combat knives were tucked into his belt as well as a sword. He looked angry, but in a controlled and focused way. The orange and pink streaked remains of the sunset lit him up from behind and cast him in a golden light against the darkness of the night. I realized how dangerous and beautiful he was at the same time. At that moment, I couldn't separate one from the other.

Bruno and Rex moved to the edge of the creek across from him. Eric's lips curled into a snarl.

"Well look what we have here,' he intoned in a cold, calculating voice. "Two dead fairies walking."

Even though I knew it might be unwise, I walked up to the edge of the creek. "Eric, Fintan is dealing with them," I said quickly. "He punished them this afternoon and they are being brought before the fairy commission."

"Not enough," he spat out. "Open the ward," he directed Bruno, who surprisingly complied. In vampire speed Eric jumped the creek and landed on top of Rex, striking him on the side of the head with his fist. Before Rex could move he hit him again, knocking him out cold. Fintan ran out of the cabin, yelling. Bruno began to rush us and then Eric grabbed me and flew me straight up into the sky, no warning, I screamed. Bruno flashed into a flaming orb again and started following us. Fintan continued to shout. I expected the ceiling of the ward to stop us but we sailed right through, perhaps Bruno had forgotten to close it in the melee. We left the orb behind and headed toward Bill's house, where Eric set me down in the yard.

"Aren't they going to follow us?"

"No, it was a ruse. Fintan will have explained it to Bruno by now. We just needed to get Rex out of the way," Eric explained. He rubbed his hands up and down my arms. It felt almost too good.

"But this morning.." I started.

"All planned. Rex arranged it with the Andromedas. He's been picking at that big beefcake Bruno for days now in preparation."

I tried to absorb his words, but it was hard with him standing right before me in the flesh. The thermal clung to his every muscle, the pants fit him just so. I hadn't seen him in more than three weeks, his scent called to me. I leaned in to nuzzle his chest but he stopped me.

"No time for snuggling, dear one," he said, his tone indulgent but steely at the same time. "We have to get out of here. There's no place to land at the cabin." That made no sense so I ignored it.

"Hey, how come you were able to be around fairies without losing your shit?" I asked somewhat indelicately.

Eric pulled down the collar of his shirt to expose a beaten gold band of metal around his neck. "Fairy cuff," he said proudly. "It emits an anti-fairy pheromone. More effective than the cloaks, and not as cumbersome."

"Where'd you find that?" I quipped. "Supe Sky Mall?" Surprisingly he laughed at my little jab.

"You like that publication?" he teased, pulling me around the corner of Bill's house, "I may have a copy in the cockpit."

"What cockpit..." I stopped mid sentence. Before me, right in the middle of the clearing, stood a helicopter.

"Where's the pilot?" I asked. I knew, but I asked anyway.

"You're looking at him," he grinned. He picked me up and sat me in the passenger seat before I could say anything. "Did you get everything done I asked you?"

"Yes, and I emailed all the info to you, and Lance dropped off the blueprints this afternoon," I assured him.

"Yes. Pam got them, and she has her laptop with her."

He gave me the headphones and put his on.

"Eric, are you licensed to fly one of these things?" I dreaded the answer.

"Well I was back in the seventies," he said in a perfectly reasonable tone. "Things haven't changed much."

Oh God.

"This is a vintage Vietnam era chopper," he said proudly. "One of the original 'stealth' type aircraft. It's for getting in and out quickly. I've owned it since the end of that war, and use it from time to time. They call it The Quiet One."

We started to lift up. The whirring propellers threw Bill's new mulch and wood chips all over the place.

"Eric you're wrecking all Bill's new landscaping!" I screamed over the noise.

""I know," he grinned as he whirled the contraption around, really kicking up the dust and dirt then. "That's why I had my day man park it here."

"Why can't you just fly me, you know, just yourself?" I couldn't believe those words came out of my mouth.

"Too far to fly like that," he said.

"Where are we going?"

"Carville."

"Why?"

"We're going to get the SIQ flu antidote if we can find it, or kill all the Andromedas trying. If I have my way," he gave me that predatory look that still chills me to the bone, "we'll do both."

Eric flew just like he drove and I nearly went insane. He sped up, pointed the nose down, then up, turned right, then left. He slowed, then floored it again. He laughed in true amusement at my distress. If I hadn't been so terrified I might have marveled at how magnificently his body filled the cabin, how he maneuvered that huge hunk of metal gracefully yet almost carelessly, as if it were no more significant than a child's toy. He did indeed own it, in every way.

"Eric, drive normal, the air police or the Coast Guard or somebody's going to shoot us down!" I screamed.

"Nah," he said reassuredly. "I know the top guy at the FAA. I let him fly this thing every once in a while, and he overlooks my …rambunctious tendencies," he grinned. "Plus I send all the local air traffic controllers free barbecue a couple times a year."

"Well that's just great," I said sarcastically. "But you're scaring the hell out of me, and I've had a hard enough day. Have you forgotten I'm quite terrified of _normal_ flying? Plus," I put my hand over my stomach here, "I'm feeling a little queasy."

He looked somber and slowed down a bit at that. "Let me see your arm." I ignored him, staring out the side glass.

He reached over and tore off my bandage. With one hand on the wheel, so to speak, he pricked his right index finger with a fang and reached over and rubbed it over the wound.

"Pay attention to the sky, Eric," I tried to wriggle away unsuccessfully. He grasped me firmly in place and finished bathing the wound.

"Why?" I asked quietly. "Why did you come for me?"

"Do you really need to ask, my dove," he said, kissing my fingers. "You weren't safe at the cabin anymore, not with Rex and his Andromeda connection. If you are with me, at least I can try to protect you. That is," he gave me a knowing glance, "as much as you will allow it."

"How did you know what happened?"

"First I felt your distress through the bond while in my daytime sleep. Fintan texted me a while later and told me what had happened. I was able to rise a little before sunset in the light-tight part of the condo. We've been expecting something to happen for a while, so I had already made some preparations."

The rest of the ride was mostly silent. Thinking about the Andromedas sobered the mood a bit. Even though it was quiet for a chopper, you couldn't really talk over the sound of the wind. Eric tried to hold my hand, but I resisted at first, thinking he needed them both to fly. After I became comfortable I reached over and took his hand in mine. He smiled. How he loved all this, the tension, excitement, uneasiness. He thrived on it. I hated it.

I could see the Mississippi looming ahead. Even though we were flying into terrifying conflict, I felt inexplicably happy and content with my Viking by my side.

We landed on a soggy patch of ground. Flood lights lit up the area. I saw Pam decked out in camouflage, a blond GI Jane. Several other vamps and Weres alike, also in combat gear, stood beside her.

"This is as close as we could get without detection," Eric said. I saw a large brown tent set up under a patch of kudzu, which almost looked like a parasol over the top of it. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make this war camp blend into the landscape.

We sloshed through the wetland, batting at bugs the whole time. I heard something move in the grass and jumped, suddenly glad I wore jeans and sneakers and not shorts and sandals. The water shone dark and colorless under the moon. The river is a serious matter, full of snakes and vermin and God only knows what else. We are told as small children, do not go into the Mississippi; it is not for play. We were not supposed to go into the kudzu, either, because it is also full of snakes and vermin and God only knows what else. I have heard tales of dogs disappearing in the kudzu. When we were in high school Jason always said if you ever need to get rid of a body, just throw it in a big swampy patch of kudzu right on the edge of the Mississippi River. No one's going in there to look for it.

I wondered if when he said that, Jason had a premonition about just how often his little sister would end up looking for somewhere to get rid of a body.

It appeared from the placement of this camp that Eric agreed – swampy kudzu is indeed a great cover. I counted about thirty vampire voids mulling about in the darkness, ten or twelve Weres, and a few brain signatures I didn't recognize. Obviously head honcho, Eric strode around the compound area, giving orders. A few minutes later he returned to me and took my hand. "Come on in here and sit down, lover," he said with a smile as he led me into the tent. "Tell me everything that happened to you today, everything you have learned."

We sat on two folding chairs right inside the doorway. He faced me, leaned over and listened attentively as I recounted the morning's events. I told him about all the Andromedas promises and he smirked.

"They lie," he stated flatly. "They intend to do no such thing. They might make a pretty showing at first, much like a politician right after he's elected, but be assured as soon as they are in control all they will do is kill anyone, anything they can. Andromedas are inter-galactic corporate raiders, Sookie. They rush in, use up all the good, suck the planet dry and leave with any wealth that is left. That's how they are so rich, you understand. They've been doing this a long time."

"Have they tried this here before?" I asked curiously.

"They come around every couple hundred years or so," he said. "Before, they've just been casing the joint, so to speak. This time they're serious."

"John said he knows you."

Eric looked thoughtful. "His name is not John, if he's who I think he is," he said. "His name is – well, it's a symbol really, not something you can readily pronounce."

"Like the artist formerly known as Prince?" I offered helpfully.

He grinned without amusement. "Something like that."

"Did Lance get everything I asked for delivered to Fangtasia?"

He looked serious then. "Yes Sookie, but this is not a joke, I hope you realize I will be very angry if you have toyed with us. You asked him for – bags of flour? Coca-cola and your brother's water gun collection. Also a few 'spud cannons' if I recall correctly."

"Yes."

"Explain."

"I called the king of Kentucky's former emissary and got him to get me in touch with Clovache and Batanya. After some wheeling and dealing – you have to make out with them both a little at the next vampire gala, don't ask questions, please - they were able to part with some very useful information about the Andromedas."

Eric eyed me expectantly. He didn't mention the make-out thing, for which I was grateful.

"All Supes have weaknesses, and I was looking for theirs."

"They don't have any," Eric said quickly. "Believe me, I have researched this for years."

"Well, they had no known weakness, up until a week or so ago," I spoke slowly. I didn't want to hurt Eric's male pride.

"But, well, after feasting on a couple college kids who had been eating nothing but pizza and soda for a few months, a new danger did come to the forefront. Several Andromedas sickened and had to travel back to their dimension for treatment. Batanya and Clovache were hired to escort them, as they were ill, and discovered the problem." Eric waited.

"Flour and soda. They can't digest it, even in the blood. It's like an allergy, a Supe-sized gluten intolerance. The Andromedas' DNA goes back thousands of years; they haven't been here in at least two hundred. They have never been exposed to a modern diet so full of processed wheat, sugar, and carbonation. Their systems haven't evolved enough to adjust."

"You're sure of this." I nodded in all seriousness. "They're allergic to it – it can't even touch them. Flour acts like an opiate if it's sprayed on them and soda burns their skin like silver does yours." Eric looked suitably interested then.

"Back in the mid-eighties they made water guns that looked just like Uzis, machine guns, and bazookas. At some time some kid got shot when he pointed a play gun at a police officer, and they changed the law. That's when Jason started collecting the illegal ones. They are battery-operated and give a much more forceful, direct stream. I also figured the vamps wouldn't want to carry around those silly-colored super soakers. We can load them up with Coke, I don't think it will kill the Andromedas, but it will slow them down."

"The potato guns?"

"I asked Pam to get one-pound bags of flour, about the size of a large potato. We can shoot them from the guns and when they hit flour will go everywhere. Again it's a time-buying technique, but a useful one, in my opinion."

Eric appeared doubtful.

"After all the years, this is what affects them," he shook his head. "We'll have to protect Batanya and Clovache if it's true."

"The modern American diet is a deadly one. Enough pastry and soda will kill anybody eventually Eric," I stated solemnly. "It makes perfect sense to me."

He stood up. "Slicing their heads off also kills Andromedas," he stated grimly. "And that's what I intend to do. We will try your method if necessary. They can't be stopped by bullets. We were going to try to blow them up, but in a laboratory situation, that could be lethal for my soldiers also.

"I have a few airboats developed by NASA, like the chopper they are very quiet. We'll take them to within a couple miles of the leper colony, then we'll be on foot or in the air the rest of the way." I got up, ready to follow.

"No, my dove," Eric turned and addressed me. "You're staying here with Pam for now." I started to protest. "No," he said again. "Niall may be in there, Sookie. Do you really want to get involved?" I backed down.

Pam entered the tent and grinned at me. Eric barked a few more orders at the waiting soldiers. He then swept me up in a powerful embrace, crushing me to his chest as he gave me a searing battle kiss, one I felt all the way to the tips of my toes. I could taste the energy and anticipation coursing through his veins. A second later he was gone, the rest of his entourage behind him. I looked at Pam.

"What are we going to do?" I asked, again dreading the answer.

"We're gonna kick some Andromeda ass our own selves, as you would say," she replied with a fangy smile. "And we're going to do it our way. Right now," she pulled a Zippo lighter out of her pocket as she spoke, "you're going to show me how to shoot a bag of flour out of a potato gun."

******

_Please review! I would love to make it to the 1000 review mark before this story ends, I'm at 846 now, only you guys can make it happen....I have updated the diet saga on my profile page. Everyone have a great rest of the week and weekend :)_


	29. Chapter 29

**Thank you dear readers. Another big thanks to Wanda W. for beta'ing this chapter in record time so I could get it out to all y'all so quickly :) **

**Chapter 29 **

"You don't use a Zippo," I said. "You need barbecue type lighters, you know, the long ones. Did Lance not bring them?"

She nodded, "Yes, he sent a dozen right here," she walked over to the table. "Let's go outside."

To the side of the tent I saw a small trailer loaded with all my requests. Bless Lance's heart, he did well; there was an entire flat of flour bags, a stack of coke cases, all of Jason's water guns, and five of the biggest potato cannons I had ever seen. "Did he get the concentrated lemon juice squeezers?" I asked. Pam pointed them out and I slipped a couple in my jacket pocket and zipped it.

I picked one of the cannons up, shifting it to my shoulder like a rocket launcher.

"You load it, get it in position, then light the switch," I showed her.

"What is the purpose of this contraption?"

"It's for shooting potatoes."

"Yes," she drawled, "I got that. Why do humans wish to launch potatoes?"

"For fun." She fixed me with a confused stare.

"It's primarily done by men, predominately redneck, but not necessarily so," I explained. "Country folks mostly, because you need a wide open space to do it."

"What does the potato hit?"

"You don't have an exact target, just a general area like a spot on the ground, a tree. I have heard of an unfortunate incident when a cow got hit between the eyes and died of a brain injury."

"That's how some humans kill cows? For food?" she perked up.

"No, it was an accident. The guns are just for amusement, like I said, for fun."

Pam continued to eye me expectantly.

"If you're waiting for a logical explanation," I said, "you're going to be standing there a long time." She snorted and picked up a flour bag, shoving it in the barrel of the gun.

I pointed toward an open area, checked the ignition and lit it. A loud, resounding "boom" followed as the flour sack shot forward about 40 feet into the air, the bag bursting and spraying the swampy grass.

"Wooo whoo," I yelled. The cloud of flour hung in the air. Pam looked at me again. "You're supposed to say that," I assured her as I handed over the cannon. She took it from me, loading up another bag of flour,

She put it on her shoulder and lit the ignition. Another perfect shot, although a little high. I had been afraid the bags would burst early, but thankfully they did not either time.

"Yooo whoo," Pam yelled, then turned to me and grinned with a proud expression. I grinned also. Not everyday you get to show a vampire a new trick. We practiced a few more rounds. Pam loved it, almost too much. We made a circle of flour around the camp perimeter.

"Now what are we going to do?"

"Let's load up your toy guns," Pam said. We sat down on the edge of the trailer and began pouring coke into the bazooka reserves and the Uzi and machine guns' clips. I briefly thought about how Jason and I would chase each other around with these things until Gran took them away from us. We hid them under the porch, under mattresses, everywhere. I told Pam about it as I worked.

"You miss your brother?" I was surprised she would ask such a question.

"A little," I admitted. "You have to remember, as a child he was my only playmate for a long time."

"I had a brother," she said, a bit of a faraway look on her face. "He preferred my company to that of my sisters. I think he sensed –something different in me, the way Eric did." She got up, clipping the last gun together. "Eric's my family now."

"You and he haven't always been together."

"No, we have separated from time to time, usually when one or the other takes a companion who we don't get along with," she said. "But you're all right, Sookie. I can't see me leaving Eric over you."

Good to know. We finished loading the coke in the guns, sprayed each other a little bit. I could tell we had a messy night ahead of us. We were already covered in flour some and now sticky coke syrup.

"I don't think Eric was too impressed with my weapons," I said, trying not to sound sulky and failing.

"I wouldn't say that," Pam replied thoughtfully. "He prefers hand-to-hand combat, being the warrior he is, but he's not stupid. He will consider all angles, believe me. It would be a mistake to underestimate him." Damned if that wasn't the truth, and how well I knew it.

"Eric and his troops are going to lure the Andromedas out into the swamp," Pam said. "Then you and I are going to try to go into the labs and see what we can find in the way of an antidote."

"Eric knows I'm going?"

"Well, he said for you to stay with me," Pam said reasonably, "and that's where I'm going to be."

"Fine." I guessed we'd just have to deal with a pissed-off Eric later if he objected to the plan. "Let's load up my boat," Pam said. She pointed to the bank where I saw the edge of a camouflage airboat drifting. There was an alligator's head painted on the front, his canines lengthened into definitive fangs. "I had it customized," she explained. We began loading the guns and three of the potato cannons in it. We loaded a case or two of flour and a case of coke also.

"We'll leave when I get word. I'm waiting for the signal." Pam explained, examining the face of her cell phone.

"You have the blueprints of the laboratories and the rest of the properties?" I asked her.

"Yes. Lance gave me two copies, I have one and Eric has the other," she said. "How was it that he knew how to get them?"

"Herveaux & Sons is a land surveying company, and has been for more than fifty years. They've worked all over the state. Lance's dad collected old plats and land records, as a hobby, and has the more historic and interesting ones hanging all over the three floors of the office building. I walk around on my breaks and look them all, and one day I saw those old plats of the leper colony just hanging on the wall like a picture. I guess someone thought they were interesting enough to mount. I told Eric about it when all this started and he asked for a copy." Boy did I owe Lance a big one.

Pam nodded. "Look here," she pointed to an altered spot on the plat. "Someone's gone back and added this. What is it?"

"I'm not sure, but I think it could be the infamous tunnel the residents dug to sneak off the property," I said. "They weren't allowed to leave, as people back then still thought leprosy was highly contagious. The patients were said to have dug out a tunnel under the fence to meet their friends and relatives; sometimes they got on boats to leave."

"The way that's drawn like it's under the perimeters, and the way it's right across from the river, it looks like that's what it might be," I pondered this for a minute. "You know, the Mississippi river was a big stop on the Underground Railroad, and I've heard folks say a smaller version of the tunnel was originally dug for that purpose."

We sat in the boat for a couple of minutes, waiting, letting the current push us to and fro.

"Excuse me," a familiar voice rang out across the grass, "Where do I report for duty?"

I looked up to see Wizno standing in front of me in the cutest little pair of paratrooper pants and combat boots I had ever seen. "Wizno!" I shrieked, running to him and grabbed him up in a big hug. I honestly don't know why I was so glad to see him; maybe it was just a familiar face.

"Miss Sookie, you sure are hard to find," he chuckled. "When that Herveaux boy came by to get the gun collection he told me about this place, and Octavia and Amelia both threw a fit. They wouldn't settle down until I told them I'd come see what was going on."

"How did you get here?"

"I rode with the Weres. Lance, Alcide, Sam, Tray and a bunch of others," he said.

"Where are they?"

"The Shreveport pack have another camp on the other side of the colony," Pam offered. "They're meeting Eric to fight."

New information to me. "On our side?"

"Yes, Sookie, on our side," she smiled. "It's their concern too, you know. I think they've realized how much worse Andromedas would be than vampires. Although I think their attachment to you did help broker the deal to pull forces together." I absorbed this in silence and decided Pam gave way me too much credit.

"I got the go ahead," Pam said, clicking her phone shut. We left a few Weres and vampires I'd never met guarding the camp. Pam, Wizno and I took off in the airboat.

As I have said before, the Mississippi is a scary river, wide and deep, brown and murky. We were lucky that the sky was bright and provided a little light; the airboat had headlights, but Pam refused to use them. We wore no life jackets. I realized that there were none for what we were about to face.

We had about a twenty minute ride to Carville. We rode mostly in silence, the only boat on the river, a strangely serene experience. I looked down and saw what appeared to be a family of water moccasins swim by and I shuddered. I reflected on Eric's comment about Niall. Although my gut reaction was that I did not want to fight against my great-grandfather, if he was willing to destroy those I held near and dear, I really had no choice. Nervously, I started going over my methods of defense in my mind. I pulled the lemon squeezers out of my pocket to make sure that the tops were on tight. I looked down at one and saw a grocery store price sticker on it, two for $1.49. This struck me as suddenly quite hysterical and I laughed out loud.

Pam shot me a look. "All my ammunition came from the Piggly Wiggly," I choked out in explanation, still giggling. "No wonder Eric wasn't bowled over."

"Shut up and get a hold of yourself," she snapped with a glare. "You can go back to acting like an idiot when this thing is over." That sobered me a bit, but I still chuckled quietly. Apparently I was a little punch-drunk, tension affects me that ways sometimes. Hey, I'm human. Mostly, anyway.

We killed the engine as we got close. We glided in next to Eric's fleet of boats. Pam put her finger to her lips. Wizno jumped out of the boat and pulled it to shore. We could hear noises coming from a swampy area to the left, terrifying noises, battle cries, blades hitting each other, blades hitting flesh. I grabbed three of the machine guns and a flashlight and jumped out of the boat with Pam.

"The tunnel should be somewhere along here," Pam said in a low voice. A line of trees, brush, and the ever-present kudzu separated the riverbank from the main house and outlying buildings. All of the property on the other side of the trees and overgrowth was surrounded by a heavy-duty fence. We searched along the line until Pam stopped. She pulled a Fangtasia matchbox out of the brush. 'Eric's calling card," she whispered with a smile. We pushed aside the brush and stepped into the tunnel.

I looked around. It felt like a hobbit hole, about five feet tall and four feet wide. Eric would have had to scrunch down all the way through here, I thought to myself. "How long is it?" I asked, feeling claustrophobic. I pulled the flashlight out of my pocket. Pam grabbed my wrist. "You can't use that," she warned. "You could attract attention."

So we made our way in the dark and I hated every second of it. The tunnel was probably less than fifty feet long but it seemed like a whole lot more. It appeared clean enough, and there was no evidence of animal infestation, although it smelled like dirt and clay and slightly mildewy. Finally we came to the end, which let out in another mess of brush on the backside of the main house.

I started toward the battle noise and Pam grabbed my arm. "Leave them be. Eric's fine, I would know it if he was injured too badly. We have a mission to accomplish." I searched the bond and realized Eric had tamped it down again, probably to protect me. I would have to depend on Pam for any news on that front.

I nodded and crouched along with her as we made our way past the main building. I knew we were headed for the laboratories behind the leprosarium, on the other side of the swamp from where the battle had commenced. We ran through the yard and around the back. The ground got soggier and I felt the wet grass slap against my legs as we continued to move. Pam led the way with Wizno and me closely behind.

"There it is," she whispered, pointing ahead of us to a long, low built structure. It looked like a military barracks, and the lights were on inside. "That's where they've been staying." We continued to move under the cover of a few trees, the Spanish moss acting as a curtain. We saw an access door and prepared to run out in the open to get to it.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "May I help you?" a woman's cultured, melodious voice rang out. I turned to see a dark figure, cloaked in a head-to-toe cape. The woman quickly covered the lower half of her face with her hand as if by instinct.

I screeched, I couldn't help it. I had never seen a leprosy victim before. Even in the moonlight her face was mottled, overgrown, bulbous and disfigured terribly. I felt immediately ashamed of my reaction.

"My name is Catherine," she spoke again in that disconcertingly beautiful voice, never letting go of my shoulder. "I am the caretaker here. Who would you be?"

I scanned her mind quickly. She was human, about sixty-five years old, not necessarily malicious. Highly intelligent, she honestly wanted to know who we were and our purpose.

"I need to know what's going on," she repeated. "You people told me you were working with the Katrina reconstruction, and that is clearly not the case."

"Beg pardon?" I squeaked. Pam came up behind me. "Unhand her," she directed Catherine, who ignored her. Wizno took a protective stance.

"You're not one of them, are you?" Catherine asked. I assumed she met the Andromedas, so I shook my head. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" I could tell by Pam's demeanor that she just wanted to kill her and get on with it. I held up my hand in a halting motion.

"My name is Sookie Stackhouse," I said. "This is Pam and that's Wizno. We're here to try to stop a bunch of galaxy-jumping blood-guzzling sons-of-bitches from turning Earth into their own personal Food Planet."

Catherine looked at Pam and Wizno, then back at me, square in the face and unblinkingly. She dropped her hand, sighed heavily and sat down on a tree stump.

"Good," she said. "Somebody sure needs to."

_Thank you for all the wonderful reviews and PM's, they are the reason I carry on – other than the fun I'm having right now, that is! Chapter 30 is under way, maybe I will post sooner than a week if I'm lucky…diet update tonight ;)_


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N Thanks to you readers for all your reviews and support, and a big thank you to Wanda W. for her meticulous and highly professional beta work. The battle commences…..**

**Chapter 30**

We regarded Catherine in silence. "I knew they were up to something strange," she said ruefully, "but I would have never guessed _that_. You're both blond," she gestured to Pam and me here, "so I assumed….but I can tell now you're not one of them."

Pam made an impatient sound. "Tell us what you know, woman."

"They showed up a couple of months ago, said they were international philanthropists and they needed a local place to stay," she started. "I'm in charge of the outbuildings, and they offered an insane amount of money. Said they wanted to be close to the river and this was perfect," she began to twist her hands as she spoke.

"I should have known it was too good to be true, but we are so desperate for help around here. Katrina left a bottomless hole that just can't be filled. And there's been so many strange folks come through since then, honestly, people aren't paying that much attention. They obviously had deep pockets, they started throwing money around, and well, we just needed it in this area so badly. No one thinks about Carville, they always send the money and help to New Orleans or Baton Rouge." She stared at the ground.

"The river needed sandbagging and reconstruction work; the Army Corp of Engineers started it and then just left to go somewhere else. These folks paid cash for local contractors to do it, which helped the local economy. It soon became apparent to me however, that they weren't that concerned by volunteer work. They were willing to give cash and write checks but, I could see in their eyes that their hearts just weren't in it."

Pam clearly did not want to listen to Catherine's ruminations. She began to speak, but again I shushed her.

"Then the utility bills started coming in. They were astronomical. Of course they had no problem paying them, but I had to wonder what they needed all that power for. There's three-phase wiring in there, for industrial-sized equipment, and gas lines. So one day a couple of weeks ago when they all went out I visited to see what they'd been doing in that building," she nodded to the laboratory. "They've got the lab all set, with big Cryo freezers and huge incubators. You know that bad feeling you get when you just know in your gut that something evil's going on? I knew then.

"I let them stay here out of greed. We needed the money, and they had it. Now you tell me this," she looked about, obviously distraught. "How can I help?"

"Can you get us inside?" I asked.

She thought for a moment. "Sure. Wait here for a minute." She walked out of the clearing to the access door, knocked on it, waited, then took a ring of keys from her pocket and opened the door. She disappeared inside for a few minutes. We tensely waited in the shadows until we saw her head poke out as she waved us in. The door opened into a large meeting room, complete with tables, big leather couches, large flat screen TVs, and a couple of desks. There were three 100 gallon tans full of freshwater grasses and – I walked closer to see – leeches, the really big kind.

"Eeww," I said. "They keep leeches for pets?" Catherine shrugged.

"Back here," she said, and we entered the lab.

It looked like a hospital laboratory, with machinery, test tubes, empty blood vials and paperwork on the counters. Just like Catherine said, the walls were lined with giant freezers and incubator-like machines. It didn't take us long to discover the freezers were full of blood and what appeared to be SIQ virus DNA. The incubators appeared to be empty, probably used to thaw the frozen material, we assumed. We wandered around the room separately. I studied the machines, scared to open one. Wizno went in the freezers and Pam rifled through the paperwork on the counters. A couple of minutes later Wizno called out.

We went to the door of the freezer he was standing in. God, it was beyond cold, but it didn't seem to bother him.

Bags of blood, labeled by type, lined the walls, yuck. There must have been hundreds. "All the freezers are the same." Wizno said, "Except this one," he lifted a panel on the floor to expose a row of suitcases. He pulled one out and opened the lid. We looked inside at rows and rows of gold bricks. "Bullion," he said. "You don't see that every day."

"How'd you know?"

"Brownies can sense gold, any mineral, really," he said. "It's one of our talents. I knew some was around here somewhere."

"Has anyone seen anything that looks like an antidote?"

Pam and Wizno shook their heads. Catherine looked at me questioningly. "It's the SIQ virus," I sad, pointing to the freezers. "They are responsible for distributing it." Realization dawned on her face.

"Oh no, oh God," she said, full of remorse. "And when vampires drink the blood?"

I nodded.

She walked to the first freezer and pulled out a zip lock bag. I moved closer and inspected it. It appeared to be full of pale pink sugar cubes.

"They knew I was getting suspicious," she said, talking in a rush, "and they offered to heal me. They've been giving me these and it's been helping," she gestured to her face.

"How long have you had Hansen's Disease?" I asked as gently as I could.

"The summer I graduated high school. I grew up out side of Dallas. I found a baby armadillo by the side of the road. His mother had been hit by a car. He was all pink and so cute. I took him home and nursed him back to health. The symptoms started a few weeks later.

"I was to study voice at Juilliard. My teachers said I have absolute pitch."

"Hansen's Disease?" Pam queried.

"That's the official term for what was called leprosy. After all those centuries of fearing and ostracizing its victims, it turned out to be a simple bacterial infection. Armadillos are the only creature known to carry the bacteria other than humans. By the end of the summer it was diagnosed finally, by a specialist here. My parents left me here one Saturday afternoon. I ran after the car crying and they never looked back."

My heart broke for her. "But it's been cured now, I thought, are there not treatments?" The research done at Carville had gone a long way toward the development of a cure. We learned all about it in grade school, as the much-maligned state of Louisiana is very proud of the accomplishments of Carville, and makes sure its students know all about it.

"Yes, I don't have leprosy anymore," she said. "But the cellular damage can't be reversed once it is done. These people….."

"The Andromedas," I corrected her.

"Well, this stuff they've got, it's magic." She held up the bag again.

Pam took the bag, opened it and sniffed it.

"Blood, just a tiny drop for the whole bag, but that's what it is. Their blood, not human."

Catherine looked like she was going to be sick

"It's very healing, but the process is slow. They said it would take a year or two, but look," she unwrapped a bandage I hadn't noticed before on her left hand. Much of the skin on her fingers was mottled, but where she removed the bandage, the skin appeared miraculously healed, pink and flesh toned, healthy, and remarkably young.

"Makes stem cell research look like child's play, doesn't it?" Catherine smiled in a wry manner.

"You're a vampire?" this she directed at Pam, who nodded.

"And you said you were – a brownie?" Wizno nodded also.

She turned to me. "I'm human, with a little streak of fairy." I trusted this woman with this information for some unknown reason. "And these creatures are from another galaxy?" I nodded my affirmation.

"So it's true," she whispered. "I've been here ten years alone since they closed the leprosarium. I've studied the news and the happenings around me. I spend a whole lot of time staring at the stars. A student of the metaphysical, you might call me. I suspected there had to be more than just vampires and Weres."

"We have to get going," Pam spoke more gently than I expected. "So there is no antidote that anyone can see?" We all looked around and shook our heads. I gestured at the sugar cubes. Pam shook her head. "The Andromedas blood is merely an amped-up form of ours. Our physiology is similar, although theirs is more evolved, and of course, they've never been human. That blood may be healing, but it would not be the antidote. On the contrary, it probably would just kill a vampire quicker if he took Andromeda blood, because the cytokine storm would turn that blood's properties against itself.

"We have failed to accomplish much of anything," she stated grimly. "But now we've got to get out of here. Load up some frozen blood - make sure it's human. If any vampires are injured in the battle they may need it."

"I'm taking the bullion," Wizno stated defiantly.

'No time for greed, little man," she snarled. Ignoring her, Wizno grabbed a suitcase and began gathering an armload of blood bags. I found a burlap bag in the corner that smelled like the swamp. I realized it was probably what they transported the leeches in. I filled it with blood and grabbed a suitcase. Surprisingly, Catherine and Pam followed suit. Just as we were about to walk out the door opened abruptly.

"Good evening ladies," Rex entered, flanked by two other guards, obviously fairy. "So good of you to join us."

"Leave us be Rex," I said. "We were just going."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," he said smoothly. "Now that you've compromised the laboratory, it looks like we're going to have to detain you."

As fast as I could I tossed a lemon squeezer each to Pam and Wizno. Almost simultaneously, we had the lids off. "Go for their eyes," Pam directed coldly. "They can't fight if they're blind."

We started squeezing the juicers at them and they screamed as it hit but kept advancing. The smell of charring flesh filled the room. Catherine backed up against a wall. Wizno charged forward. I screamed as one of the fairies, blinded by the juice, managed to grab Wizno anyway and picked him up over his head. Just then the door slammed open again as a pair of black panthers burst through.

They jumped on the fairies on either side of Rex, who had fallen on his stomach during the scuffle and appeared to be unconscious. Pam walked over and squirted the other fairies around the eyes some more, emptying her squeezer. They screamed, moaned and cursed, and I winced at their apparent pain.

The panthers shifted back into human form. I gasped as I realized who they were - Sam and Jason.

"Get out of here, Sookie," Jason panted. "They'll turn into those damn orbs as soon as they get their strength back."

I looked at Sam. "What are you doing here?"

"Eric must have sensed your presence. He couldn't leave the front line so he sent us to check out the buildings," Sam explained. He grabbed the leather cords from the fairy guards' sandals and began tying their hands and feet together. Jason followed suit.

"Seems kinda funny, you taking orders from Eric," I observed.

"Yeah, well," Sam said, "it's the old LBJ saying, 'he may be a bastard, but he's our bastard.' At least in this fight, he is."

Impulsively I walked over and hugged Sam and Jason both.

"Go on Sookie," Jason said. "We'll talk later." The others were waiting. I realized I had dropped my suitcase by Rex. Gingerly I leaned over him to retrieve it. A hand grabbed my ankle and I looked up, startled to see Rex's eyes snap open. "Hurry," he whispered with a wink. "They'll be right behind." I stood with my mouth open.

"Come on," Pam growled. "You can have your little family reunion some other time." I rushed to the door, looking back just in time to see Sam pick up a chair and knock Rex out with it, then start shifting back into panther form again, accompanied by Jason

Catherine disappeared. Pam, Wizno and I ran through the trees, toward the hobbit hole. It seemed to take forever, all of us struggling with our loads. As soon as we reached the other end I heard noises behind us.

"Don't look back," Pam warned, but I did. A wall of Andromedas was closing down on us from the other side of the fence, all blond, all dressed in black, all ready to kill. John and Mary headed the onslaught, their pointy teeth bared as they roared with the others in an inhuman din of war.

"Pam," I said, "they're coming!" She looked back and cursed. She and I both dropped our suitcase at the same time and jumped in the boat. Wizno stopped and picked up Pam's. "Don't think I won't leave you, you little shit!" Pam threatened, backing the boat up just as Wizno clamored on, me reaching down to help him.

We could see the Andromedas jumping in a line of speed boats parked a little ways up from us. Wizno and I positioned ourselves on the rear of the boat. I threw him a spud gun and a lighter. "You know how to use one of these things?" I asked. "I'll follow you," he replied.

I heard the sound of motor boats approaching, they were coming up fast. "It only shoots about forty feet," I said. "You've gotta wait until they're that close, and aim for their heads or chests." I slung him a coke-filled machine gun. "If they get closer than that, shoot them in the eyes with this, just like we did the fairies." He nodded, struggling to get a purchase on the cannon.

The first boat came within shooting distance. I fired off a round and hit the driver in the chest. The cloud of flour exploded over him and the other occupants of the front of the boat. The boat slowed and dropped out of sight. Another approached; Wizno got that one, impressing me with his aim. I missed the shot on the next, but Wizno blasted them with the machine gun. We could see the smoke rising from their bodies as they howled in pain when the soda hit them. I dropped the cannon and joined in until that boat fell back and disappeared. We managed to hold our own, but we were gradually slipping. Every time we hit one, another two or three would pop up in its place.

"They're gaining. We have to lose weight, throw out the bullion!" Pam yelled back into the wind. I saw the look on Wizno's face. "We have to do it," I said.

He reluctantly picked up a suitcase and tossed it over the side, then resumed shooting. I looked around for a landmark, making note of an old sharecropper shack and a huge pond cypress tree on the right. I picked up a suitcase and stood on the edge of the boat and started to sling it just as a wake hit; the boat bumped and went out of control. Pam over-corrected and jerked the steering wheel toward a grove a trees on the water's edge. I lost my footing and fell into the river, clutching a suitcase of gold bullion.

_'Do not go into the Mississippi'_ my grandmother's words echoed nonsensically in my head as I tumbled into the cool, dark water. Instinctively I held onto the suitcase and sank like a stone until my senses kicked in and I let go. I never hit bottom. It was probably only 12-15 feet in reality but it felt like a lot more. Slowly I began to swim up. I felt something bump up against my arm and grasped it, thinking it was a floating piece of wood, a branch, something to hold onto, long and round. My fingers met around it and it began to wiggle and slide through my hand. Snake.

I screamed silently under water and instantly lost all the air in my lungs. I swallowed brackish water, choked, and I still had ten feet to go to the surface. My head felt like it would explode, my lungs and chest ached. This is it, I thought, this is the end, I'm going to drown in the Mississippi. I felt something else slide along my leg, undulating, and then another something, on the other side. I thrashed about, moving up and down, and suddenly I had vertigo, the water was black and the sky was dark. No light anywhere, I couldn't tell which way was up, which way to swim.

I felt another creature thrust against me, this time with seeming purpose, and the terror of it propelled me forward and I swam suddenly with all my might, to hell with the direction, I just had to get away. My head popped up through the water just as I felt a pair of hands grab me under the armpits and haul me into the boat.

"Seriously, Sookie," Pam said with no emotion apparent in her voice. "Why would you dive into a nest of breeding water moccasins?"

******************

PS Update 5/28: Yes, I know I said that I would finish Chapter 31 by Friday if motivated, and I am motivated, and thank you for all your reviews; I have mostly finished Chapter 31 as of Thursday afternoon. But if you guys would just bear with me and let me have the weekend, I would appreciate it. I have come to the realization that I have a tendency to rush through action scenes, because I am not used to doing them. I don't want to put something out there that is muddled or unclear, especially not this chapter, as it is a complicated and pivotal one. So if you'll just let me have the weekend to breathe, and think things through, I would appreciate it. It will be a better read if I take the time to tweak it a bit. It really reads as a first draft to me now. Give me a couple of days to improve it, we'll all be happier. Y'all take care misscyn


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the SVM universe, they all belong to Charlaine Harris. For the purposes of this chapter, I do not own any of the interpretations or adaptations of those characters as portrayed in the HBO series True Blood; that stuff belongs to Alan Ball. Please don't sue me, I have enough problems. **

**Thank you again to my wonderful beta Wanda W., you humble me with your greatness, lady. I hope you all enjoy the show :)**

**Chapter 31**

"Thank you!" I sputtered, meaning every word of it. Without further ado she slung me into the boat and turned back to the wheel. "Well watch yourself! We don't have time for any of your attention-seeking shenanigans!"

She took off so hard I nearly fell out again. I coughed and hacked some more, trying to get the river water out of my lungs. Wizno grinned at me from the other side. "Thought we'd lost you girl," he said as he lit the cannon again, blasting another boatload of Andromedas in the very nick of time. My little escapade had allowed them to get closer. Out of desperation, Wizno grabbed a couple of bags of flour and opened them into the large fan above the motor; the flour sprayed out in a cloud around us, and we were able to pull a little farther ahead.

I saw the camp coming up, almost there, although quite frankly I didn't know if the fight on land was going to go any better. I expected Pam to slow down but she never did. We hit the bank at full speed and the boat became airborne for a few feet, then bounced on the ground and slid on the slick wetland grass sideways, hard, throwing me off the end. I landed with a thud in spongy, soggy mud and grass, cursing. Wizno and Pam jumped out and grabbed guns. Pam shouted to the guards to get prepared. I picked myself up and followed suit. The Andromedas first few boats shot past us, not anticipating Pam's unconventional marine driving, but the others pulled up to shore. We assumed positions with the cannons again. I pushed my river-soaked hair out of my eyes, manned the potato gun with my left arm and the water gun with my right.

They began unloading the boats and rushing the camp. We fought, we shot flour but it was never enough, it slowed them down, but they would get back up. I hit them with the coke in the guns, once again aiming for the eyes. Again it worked, but they kept coming, almost in waves. Their racket sounded like bees swarming. As they came again and again we fought and fought but I knew it was futile. We couldn't keep them off much longer; they multiplied like ants.

Suddenly I felt him. I looked toward the water and saw a V formation of airboats coming up the river. My Viking, my huckleberry, my bastard, stood at the helm of the foremost boat, flanked on either side by Fintan and Niall. _Niall? _I filed that away for later. I saw Sam, Lance, Alcide, Jason and Calvin, and Rex, scattered among the rest of the boats. They were using the lights, I supposed, because they didn't give a damn who saw them coming. Eric's face was stoic and hard, his hair loosened by battle and now blowing behind him in the wind. He was dirty and bloody, wounded all over, but I felt nothing but strength wash off him in spades. I felt something else through the bond and my mind flashed, just for a second, to another place and time where he stood just the same at the helm of an ancient battle ship. I knew without a shadow of doubt that he was in his element and he would prevail. I looked back to the battlefield in front of me and felt renewed strength as I continued my onslaught. Eric jumped out of the boat ten feet before shore and bounded to the battle line, followed closely by the others. He bellowed a war cry from deep within and then began swinging his sword left and right, cutting down anything in his way.

A roar arose as the fairies, vampires and Weres jumped from their boats and joined in. The soldiers fought hand to hand as we kept it up with the cannons and coke weapons. My joy was short-lived; it became apparent we were still outmanned. I looked up and met Eric's eyes, just for a moment, as he decapitated two Andromedas with one stroke. The fierceness of his stance, the intensity of his stare shored up my courage. I would fight tough, in this with my vampire, my friends and family. No matter the odds, I would not stop.

Eric and his swordsmen maintained the scrimmage line while we caught the stragglers who pushed through. I tried my best not to let them get too close with the coke guns and flour. Wizno and Pam did the same. When they did get close enough to look them in the face, it scared me beyond all hope. It was like fighting grown-up versions of those creepy kids in the original _Village of the Damned_, freaky eyes, robotic stares and the teeth – God help us all, the teeth. I blasted one good in the face and he dropped his sword before he fell back, screaming. I picked it up and examined it closely. I'm no weapons expert, but this was some kind of craftsmanship and quality I'd never seen before. The blade was honed to razor sharpness at its edges and was made of so pure a metal that it shone clearly, revealing my reflection in the alloy. A thin strip of mahogany wood was embedded down the middle of the blade, stopping two inches from the tip. I realized with a start that the sword had been designed specifically with killing vampires in mind.

They were beating us back, slowly but surely. They had more men, more power. It would only be a matter of time.

Over the noise of battle I heard the sound of a plane, no, planes. I looked up to see a gaggle of crop-dusters, seven, eight maybe, honing down on the battlefield like they were going to crash into us. I crouched instinctively, and then looked up just in time to see the first plane as it buzzed right over our heads. Terry Bellefleur leaned out of the cockpit, the straps of his aviator goggles flailing wildly behind him.

"I GOT YOUR NAPALM MOTHER FUCKERRRSSSSS'" he shouted just as he released twenty cubic feet of flour over the battlefield, each buzzing plane behind him doing the same.

Just like that, everything stopped. If a little flour drugged the Andromedas, then a lot acted as a massive overdose. They went down like Dorothy, the Lion and the Tin Man in that field of poppies outside Emerald City. A surreal scene presented itself to us with white, white everywhere. I saw no movement on the ground, just flour-covered bodies lying where they dropped. After a few minutes our men began to stir; I saw Eric dusting himself off, he didn't get it as bad as some of the others.

The rest of our guys started to congregate in a circle around Eric. He gave a few orders. I knew without asking that they were going to finish the Andromedas off while they were down, and I didn't want to watch. I turned toward the main tent when a movement from the field caught my eye. Wizno, buried in flour, was attempting to stand up at the edge of the field. His hair stood on ends, caked with white and flour cascaded off him in clouds. I rushed over to help him. He looked crazy funny. I tried to help him dust it off, but it was coated so thick, in his hair, and pointy ears, all in his eyelashes.

Then he sneezed.

Pam, Eric and I all stared. Nothing.

"What?" he asked as he shook himself off. "Aww, don't tell me you fell for that crap! It's an urban myth, people. You guys will believe anything." I started to laugh then stopped as I saw a red stain spread across the white-caked expanse of Wizno's shirt.

"You're wounded, buddy," I reached over to touch it and sucked in my breath. The cut was deep, really deep, and starting to gush. 'Fucker got me with his sword," Wizno said through clenched teeth. Eric approached us. "Lie down," he instructed.

We got him on a cot in the tent. The wound was bad. Surprisingly Eric had medical supplies in the tent so Sam set about tending to Wizno. I sat by him and held his hand.

"I'm not a greedy person, Sookie, I want you to know that," he said. "Shh, Wizno," I tried to quiet him.

"The gold - I just wanted to get out of debt before I proposed to Octavia," he said. "I knew she wouldn't want to start a marriage off like that." Tears welled in my eyes and I squeezed his hand. He seemed to be fading somewhat. "Tell her she rocks me," he said intently, his faltering smile showing his pain. "You're gonna be just fine, Wizno," I assured him. I turned to Eric with pleading eyes.

He lifted his lip. I glared. Reluctantly he approached the cot. "You may lick the dried blood from my wounds, brownie," he offered in an almost bored tone.

Wizno regarded him from narrowed eyes. "I think I'd rather croak," he managed to rasp.

"Oh move," Pam interjected. She pushed Eric aside and bit her wrist, then held it to Wizno's mouth. "He is a fine warrior," she said in response to Eric's stare. "He earned the healing."

Eric continued to stare at Pam. "You and I are going to have a conversation soon, Pamela," he said coldly, pointedly. _Pamela_, ooohh, that's bad. She bowed her head. "Don't think I have forgotten you took Sookie to the Andromeda headquarters when you knew I did not want her there."

I didn't want to be the reason Pam got in trouble. "Eric, don't be mad. She helped me…"

"And you," he cut me off there and fixed me with that intent glare. I swallowed. "Let me get this straight. You went with my child to find the antidote, failed, so instead you decided to _rob_ ancient, deadly, extra-terrestrial creatures?" His lip curled, just slightly, but his frosty blue eyes stayed hard. "Who's the Viking here?"

I had no real response to that. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," I offered lamely. He turned toward the door. "I have business to attend to. We will speak of all this later."

Pam removed her wrist from Wizno's mouth, and he looked better almost immediately. Several vamps and Weres were injured, and there were a few fatalities, but no one else that I knew. I felt ashamed that I was glad about that, but it was the truth. We set about helping the wounded anyway we could. The serious casualties had already begun being transported to the local hospital.

An odd type of fellowship ensued and I guessed that to be common among soldiers after a battle. After the wounded were tended to folks sat around in the fold-up chairs, conversing among themselves in small groups. Someone got a hold of some room-temperature bottles of blood and beer and just about everyone took part. It felt funny, Weres and vampires, fairies and humans fraternizing together, but oddly appropriate. I did notice all the vampires, including Pam, were wearing anti-fairy cuffs around their necks. Eric must have bought them by the dozens. We were all in this together, after all.

Fintan and Niall approached my table, where I sat with Pam next to Wizno. They were dressed all in black, much like the Andromedas, for which I was grateful. I might have laughed at Niall in camouflage.

"Care to explain?" I asked with a lifted brow.

"Fairies are tricky, Sookie," Fintan smiled. "Looks like my father and your great-grandfather has been fooling us all along."

I turned toward Niall. "It was important for everyone to believe I was on their side, including the Andromedas," Niall said. "It made them – more confident, less careful." I continued to stare. "If my strategy caused you any pain, I am sorry, great-granddaughter," he looked at me meaningfully and I knew somehow that an apology from Prince Niall was a rare thing indeed, but I wasn't too impressed.

"And Rex?"

"It was all an act, though I think Rex and Bruno's friendship may have taken a beating," Niall chuckled. "Where is Bruno?" I asked. I hadn't noticed him in the fight. "He sustained a few injuries in the swamps, nothing major, and is back in the Fae realm to heal," Niall explained.

"Did you know?" I asked Fintan.

"Not until today," he confirmed. "Although I suspected something was up. I've known my father for more than 700 years," he gave Niall a rueful glance here. "He's never really out of tricks."

The group of crop-duster pilots, headed by Terry, approached the entrance to the tent. I recognized several of Terry's Gulf War buddies from Merlotte's. Eric stopped and clasped Terry's shoulder in his hand. "You did well," he said. Terry nodded as Eric moved away. Terry walked tall. He looked almost happy, content.

I patted him on the back. "You saved the world, Terry," I said, squeezing his shoulder. He nodded. "Yeah," he said with a small, slow smile. "I've been meaning to do that." He might have been talking about mowing his lawn. I laughed, and so did he.

"How did you get involved?" I asked.

"Eric called Sam and told him he needed crop duster planes and pilots so Sam referred him to me," Terry said simply. "He knew I flew in the war and dusted part-time during the season. Sorry we were late - we were headed for the swamps when we got the call to re-route here. I didn't really understand the situation, and I don't really need to, but" he looked back at the other pilots and lowered his voice, "a couple of these guys are going to have to be- you know- what the vampires do to erase memories? 'Cause you really don't want them talking about this around the water cooler Monday morning." He gave me a knowing look.

No one has ever given Terry enough credit. "I'll take care of it," I promised.

I stayed in the tent for a while then, tending to Wizno and talking to people coming and going. I knew Eric was committing a full-scale massacre on that field, and I knew it needed to be done. It should have disturbed me, knowing all those Andromedas were being slaughtered while in a drug-induced state. But it didn't. It should have bothered me that it was my man doing the slaughtering, but that didn't bother me either. I just thanked the lord that he had the strength to do what had to be done. I lay down beside Wizno and dozed off for a bit.

Niall and Fintan woke me up when they took their leave. I sat up and surveyed the room. Sam, Alcide, Calvin and Jason still sat around talking. Apparently even Clancy and Felicia had loosened up some and were conversing with the Weres and shifters. Something about risking your life to fight on the same side obviously brings people together.

Lance approached me. "The Andromedas bodies are disintegrating, so that's not going to be a problem. However, the moisture in the grasses has bound with that flour and now there's a layer of dough all over the field," he continued, ever the environmentalist. "It won't be good for the local flora and fauna. We need to figure out a way to clean it up."

What we needed was a good rain. We began discussing the different methods of dealing with the mess. 'Where's Eric?" I asked. "He's in conference with the remaining Andromedas right now," Lance said. "He allowed John to survive, in order to negotiate."

As we were talking it became apparent how hard Eric had worked to bring the battle and subsequent surrender to fruition. I felt a surge of humility and pride. Eric walked in about then, looking somewhat haggard but victorious. Even in that state, he dwarfed the room with his presence. I rushed up and threw myself in his arms. "What's wrong, my dove?" he asked.

"I don't know," I sniffed, turning my face into his chest. His shirt was filthy, but I didn't care. "You rock me."

He chuckled. God Almighty, even when I don't make any sense to myself that man gets me.

"I rock you very much," he said as he kissed me on top of my head. "Even after you pimped me out to a couple Britlingens just to save the world." Oh, yeah. That.

"Not to mention," he crinkled his nose at this, "asking me to give my blood to a _brownie._ If my maker had a grave, he'd be turning over in it right now." I laughed, and then found I couldn't stop. He gave me a questioning look. "It wasn't that funny," he said as we sat down.

"No, it's not that. You reek," I said, "really bad." I couldn't stop chuckling. The swamp fight had apparently take a place in about three feet of malodorous muck, as Eric's pants were coated in it, not to mention the blood, dirt, flour and swamp grass sticking to every other part of him.

"My lover, need I remind you that not only did you take a dip in Old Man River, you have also apparently rolled around in a primordial stew of bacterial-laden sludge."

I wasn't fazed. "I'm not surprised that I stink. It's just funny that you do." He shook his head, a bemused expression on his face.

I looked down at myself. Boy, was he right. I was a mess, indescribably nasty, covered in layers of flour and coke mixed with river mud and gook. I also felt suddenly very sore and exhausted. In addition, the humidity made everything that much stickier and bugs were lighting everywhere. I suddenly realized what a miserable state I found myself in. Dejection seeped into my euphoria and I digressed into an internal monologue rife with profanity. Fucking river. Fucking primordial stew. Fucking Pam knocking me out of the fucking boat – fucking _twice_. Fucking galaxy-jumping blood-guzzlers. Fucking snakes.

"You have a leech on your foot," Eric remarked conversationally.

"Fucking leeches!" I shrieked louder than I meant to, earning looks from all around. "Get it off!" I yelled at Eric, embarrassed to be such a girl about it, especially after all that had happened just hours before, but I really, really did not want to touch it. Eric smirked, pulled my foot up and removed the leech, then tossed it on the floor. A trail of blood flowed down my leg after it. Eric stared at it hungrily for just a moment, then turned to me with a smirk on his face. He ran his hand up my jeans leg. "They could be everywhere," he leered teasingly.

"Shut up," I said automatically. "I don't suppose you have to worry about leeches, either, just like mosquitoes?"

"Not unless we've just fed," Eric said. "Human blood is lighter than and not as thick as ours. It rises to the top of the vein like cream. If a leech is applied to our skin within a few hours of eating, before the blood has been absorbed, the leech will suck the human blood out, and then drop off when it's gone."

I sat stunned, my mind whirling. I laughed out loud. "That's it. The leeches. That's the antidote." Eric furrowed his brow.

"The Andromedas have tons of them in big aquariums in their lab," I explained.

Eric pondered this. "It would work, if tried in time. It would take a lot of leeches, 40 to 50 for an average-sized person. Vampires have used them to counter-act blood poisoning in the past. It's not easy to keep leeches around, and it's a pretty antiquated method."

"The Andromedas are a pretty antiquated bunch," I pointed out. "As we said before, they haven't been here for a while, so apparently they're not really in touch with our technology. Not to mention that they situated their headquarters in the world's biggest leech factory," I gestured toward the swamp.

"Speaking of antiquated, your old boyfriend Bill benefited from your findings," Eric said. "He got caught up against a faction of Andromedas south of Paris at the same time we did. You know how the French won't fight – not even the vampires- so he somehow hooked up with a Muslim street gang. They broke into a museum and stole some muskets.

"Bill and his new cronies have been bombarding the Andromedas with flour and gun powder all evening. They surrendered when they got word from John a few minutes ago." I tried my best to picture Bill fighting along side Muslim gang members in a bunker in the French countryside but my imagination fell short. I could however, picture him with a musket. You can take the man out of the Civil War, but you can't take the Civil War out…oh, you know how it goes.

"So are they all going back to where they came from now?"

"Yes, the few left living will. There were beat but ironically had almost decided that the diet would present too much of a problem anyway. All the chemicals, processed foods, toxicity in the environment, they don't want to deal with it. They may be back, in a hundred years or so, when humans straighten it out. Once I told John Krispy Kreme just started selling Hong Kong franchises, he knew they were done here for now."

I absorbed all this is silence. "So," I said thoughtfully, "we're safe now because we suck?"

"Correct," Eric said.

"Well, here's to sucking then," I bumped my beer bottle against his True Blood in a mock toast.

"When can we leave?" I looked at my watch. Three-thirty in the morning, thirty minutes to Shreveport by helicopter or plane, and the vamps needed to go to ground.

"I have a bomb shelter less than a mile from here set up with coffins for any of the vampires who might need them," Eric said. "You and I are taking the helicopter back to Shreveport – or Bon Temps –wherever you want to go," he looked at me questioningly.

I thought for a minute. It hurt me to see him so dirty, bloody and tired. All I wanted to do was bathe him and feed him – quite literally, I realized with a blush.

"I guess we'll go to your house tonight so you can rest better," I said. "We won't have time to do anything but get cleaned up and go to sleep. But tomorrow night, I want you to come to the cabin. I want to have dinner and talk and laugh and walk you through the garden and swing in the swing. I want to show you all the clothes I bought for you online while I was bored and sequestered," he gave me a look here, which I ignored.

"I want you to fuss at me for spending all that money on you, and then wear them anyway. I want it to be sweet and easy, with no one else around, just 'a jug of wine, a loaf of bread and thou' thing," I rushed through my words and ran out of air. His demeanor softened and he smiled. "As you wish," he replied, inclining his head.

I stood up, took a last swig of my beer and started to choke. I couldn't stop. I sputtered and hacked some more. Pam walked over from where she'd been visiting with the out of town vampires. Eric looked alarmed, patting me on the back. "Sookie, what's wrong?"

"I think I swallowed some river water," I said, still coughing. My eyes started to run and felt dry and scratchy. The wetness of my clothes, which seemed to be the least of my problems a few minutes before, made me feel chilled. All of a sudden I felt really, really bad. Jason stood up and walked over from where he'd been sitting with Sam and Calvin. He laid his hand against my forehead. "She's got a fever," he announced to no one in particular. "Get away from her," Eric growled. "It's okay, Eric," I said.

Jason kneeled down on his haunches beside me and looked in my face. 'She's sick," he said with authority. "That's what Sookie looks like when she's sick."

"I need to lie down," I said. Hurriedly, Eric got me situated on a cot beside Wizno.

The room started to swirl. I closed my eyes just as I heard Sam state wearily, "She's got the flu."

********

A/N Thank you to Morgan La Morta, who gave me the Wizno flour sneeze idea in a review. I was gonna actually let him get sick, but this was better :)

For those of you who might be questioning, the phrase "I'm your huckleberry," as per Val Kilmer (Doc Holladay) in the cult classic western _Tombstone_, is a nineteenth-century saying that means "I'm your man." I used it as a play on words here, a combination of the term huckleberry and a reference to Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn, who traveled the Mississippi. Maybe it worked, maybe it didn't, but just so you know.

The leprosarium at Carville was situated in the old Indian Camp sugar cane plantation house. It was built in the 1870's right next to the Mississippi on purpose, so the cane could be shipped up or down the river to be sold or processed. Immediately after Hurricane Katrina, the town of Carville became the temporary home for thousands of National Guard troops and public health officials assisting with relief efforts, some of which were housed in the old plantation. The building is now a national monument. There is now an official museum of the events at the Carville leprosarium in Baton Rouge.

I have been walking and working out with a kettlebell (thanks to anonymous reviewer "e" – I can't thank you in a PM if you're anonymous!) and I love it! I also feel guilty if I don't walk every day, who'd ever have thunk that! My diet progress will be updated after 10 pm EST tonight (6/2) on my profile for those of you who are following. Hey, I took my kid to a mall carnival Saturday night, and two, count them TWO, carnies tried to pick me up. That hasn't happened in a while, so thumbs up! Life is good ;)

****two, maybe three chapters 'til the end, folks****Thank you for all your reviews, we made it over the 1000 mark today! I wish I could give back to you all that you've given to me, truly :)

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	32. Chapter 32

**A/N Thank you to all my faithful readers, you keep me keepin' on. Special thanks to my beta Wanda W. for helping me out with grammar and stuff, it wouldn't be the same without her, trust me. **

**Chapter 32**

That room wouldn't have cleared any faster if someone had yelled "Fire!" or in this case "Stake!" Ten minutes later Pam, Wizno, Eric and I were the only people left, save a few brave stragglers. Hell, even most of the wounded managed to hobble out.

"Maybe it's not the flu," I said, hoping against hope. "Maybe it's something else."

"Shh, lover," Eric said, his hand against my forehead. 'We'll be getting you out of here soon."

Rex walked in; as fairies were impervious to the flu, I guess he decided to stay.

"Jackass," I said and he smiled. "You can't catch a break, can you, Sook?" He sat down on the cot next to mine. "I can't decide if you're the luckiest or the unluckiest human I've ever met."

"Yeah, well, the jury's still out for me too there, buddy," I grumbled.

Eric rushed around, barking orders to Pam, trying to take care of everything. Rex stood up and said something to Eric in a low voice and then left. A few minutes later Eric came back, gathered me up and carried me outside to the helicopter. As we passed I looked over at the field of flour. It had morphed in a short period of time, bubbling and rising.

"Eric," I said, trying to lift up from his arms, "they didn't use self-rising flour, did they?" He looked at me blankly. I pointed to the field. "The kind that has baking powder and salt added? Tell me they didn't use self-rising flour!" He shrugged.

Oh, lord. Men. Vampires. I've got one of both, in a single, very appealing package. I guess I couldn't blame someone who hasn't eaten in a thousand years for not understanding the intricacies of baking, much less one of the most common newbie mistakes.

"Somebody needs to go ahead and call the Guinness Book of World Records because when the sun hits that field tomorrow, it's going to turn into a giant biscuit."

'It's Pam's problem anyway," Eric said as he loaded me into the helicopter.

"What do you mean?"

"Cleaning up that field," he said. "She's going to do it, at night, by herself. That's what she gets for going against my wishes with you."

"Eric, that's a huge job. No way is she going to do it by herself," I protested.

"Yes she is, and she'll hate every minute of it, which is the point. She'll think twice before she endangers you like that again." His jaw set and I knew there was no point in arguing further.

"I need to get my sword," I said, pointing to the Andromeda sword I'd left lying on the edge of the grass. Eric picked it up and looked at it. He whistled. "Who had this?" he raised his eyebrow. "Just one of their soldiers," I shrugged. "He dropped it and I snagged it. Weren't all their swords like that?"

"Definitely not," Eric said. "This one is decidedly superior to most of the others." I bent over in a fit of coughing and he frowned.

"You can have it," I said. "I just thought it was interesting." Eric laid the sword carefully behind our seats. "Did you see the frozen blood we found at the headquarters?" Eric nodded. "I have a couple pints of O positive here," he said, patting the seat beside him. "They've nearly thawed. The blood will still be cold, but it's better than nothing."

I stole a glance at Eric. He looked like he was feeling every bit of his age. He really needed the blood. I felt terrible, he looked like hell, what a pair we made.

"I guess the Andromedas didn't bother to develop a human treatment for their nasty pathogen because they just didn't give a shit," I remarked somewhat crudely. Give me a break, I was pretty puny.

He nodded. "They didn't care much about the vampires either, or they would have come up with something better than leeches. Although I have to admit there is brilliance in the simplicity of it."

"Hey, if leeches are the SIQ treatment for vampires, then what do Weres use?" I asked. "Ticks?"

Eric managed to beam a little through his weariness. It's not often that I make derogatory comments about Weres, even in jest, and he appeared to appreciate it immensely.

"You'll have to ask one of your shifter friends that question," he answered ambiguously, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

Naturally we weren't in the air ten minutes when it came a monsoon. Pouring, pelting rain, the kind that stings your skin. I guess Lance did a rain dance or so something, which was really good for Pam and that field of dough, and not so good for Eric and me in that little helicopter. The wind began to bang us around and push us all over the place.

I tried to get an internal handle on the situation. There we were, in that crazy chopper, filthy, wounded, hurtling through the night sky in a storm. Eric started sucking down one of the blood bag pints like it was a Capri Sun with one hand, gripping the controls with the other. It was so scary and ridiculous that I started crying, then laughing through my tears. The wind howled louder as Eric struggled to keep the helicopter balanced in the air. The noise was deafening. He motioned for me to come closer.

"I never wanted you to work for Felipe," he shouted over the roar into my ear.

"What?" I managed to yell back.

"When Felipe offered you that job. I never really wanted you to take it," he said. His tone and demeanor was that of someone making a confession. "Did you never wonder why I didn't make a bigger deal of you working for Alcide?" I nodded, understanding the question but confused at his timing.

"I didn't like you working for Alcide, but he was the lesser of two evils. I never trusted Felipe, and I didn't want you to be in his employ at all," he lowered his voice a little. "That's why I didn't try to make you quit."

Why was he bringing this up now? I could tell he felt guilty about his wavering loyalty to the King, and I was touched that he confided in me, but I had to wonder at his reasoning. Suddenly the plane scene from _Almost Famous_ flashed in my mind.

"Oh, God," I said, the tears falling in earnest. The helicopter lurched forward, throwing me against the instrument panel. "Oh God. We're going to die," I sobbed.

"What?" he looked at me like I'd grown a third head.

"We're going to die. That's why you confessed about Felipe to me," I blurted, still sobbing. He furrowed his brow, and then widened his eyes in amusement.

"Oh, no lover," Eric chortled. "We are most certainly not going to die." He nearly wheezed he was laughing so hard and I punched him, glaring. "I just told you because I knew if the chopper was bugged it wouldn't pick up anything over the sounds of the storm." He continued to laugh.

"Trust me, my dove, if the chopper was going to crash, I would grab you and jump out of it," he said. "And if I was going to confess something to you in a life or death moment, it surely would not have anything to do with you working for Felipe or Alcide."

I had to wonder what he would confess in such a situation, now that he brought it up. Soon I saw the lights of Shreveport up ahead. "Are you not taking me home?" I asked.

"I'm not leaving you alone when you are ill, and humans will not want the exposure. You will stay with me until I can get you a proper nurse to care for you," he said.

"I talked to Fintan, he will try to provide a fairy nurse. I will have a doctor see you tomorrow."

He looked better from the blood. I still felt like hell. We landed on the rooftop of the parking garage about five minutes later.

We made it to the elevator. I prayed no one would see us; if they did surely they would call the police. We started stripping as soon as we got in the front door. I found two more leeches on me, eewww, it was so nasty and just made me feel worse. Eric pulled them off my legs without asking and flushed them. "Oh, Eric, you shouldn't have touched the leeches, the blood," I said urgently, scared.

"It will only affect me if I take your blood," he said. "And I won't do that. I won't endanger myself, I have self-control."

Eric fed his fish and then started the shower and a bath at the same time.

"Get in the shower first, lover," he said. "You can bathe after if you want. " I jumped in, feeling guilty because I knew he must want one as bad as I did. "You can join me," I said, pulling him by the hand. "Unless you don't want to be around me because of the flu."

We washed each other in silence. It had been six – maybe seven weeks since we'd been together, and then that was the drive-by blow the night of that crazy sex toy party. The last time we had been naked together – well, that had been at least two months ago, before SIQ, before the Andromedas. I felt too damn bad to do anything about it, but I could not help but yearn for him. It wasn't lust I felt, necessarily, but the need for the comfort I always felt when he was near. Regardless of how miserable I felt, just being close to his naked form took the edge off my wretchedness.

I continued to bathe him, although he tried to refuse my help. I did feel awful, and I wasn't very energetic about it. Still, if single mothers have to take care of their small children when they themselves are sick, surely I could help a large undead Viking with his shower.

He washed my hair and conditioned it. We were trying to be clinical about touching each other, it was hard, and I saw his nostrils flare as he washed away the blood streaks from the leeches on my legs.

I finished up first and then decided to soak in the bath and leave Eric to himself in the shower. I got in and laid my head back and I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew Eric had gathered me up again and wrapped me in a towel. "I'll stay in the spare bedroom," I murmured. My temperature was raging. I found some Advil in my purse and took it.

I could hardly walk I was so exhausted. "You can move later if you want," Eric said.

"You don't want me sleeping with you when I'm sick."

"That's the strange thing," Eric said. "I do. If we were married, would you not stay with me?"

"We're not married. If we were, then I would live with you, and it would be a moot point." He didn't address that subject any further.

"If you are with me, you can wake me up if you need something. You have done it before; I know you can do it. I will wake myself up every few hours to check on you until you can get up and go to the doctor. I don't want you to be alone, even across the hall."

My real hesitation was based in vanity. I felt and looked yucky and didn't want him to see me this way. However, my misery and utter exhaustion was overcoming my need to look good for Eric, and quickly. I crawled into his bed and fell asleep before my head hit the pillow. He apparently followed as I woke up later and found him beside me. I also became conscious several times when he woke, just as he said he would, to check on me. I remembered his hand brushing my forehead, hearing soft, soothing words.

At some point I got out of the bed and moved to the couch. An incessant pounding on the front door woke me. I looked at the clock; nearly 3 p.m. I opened it to find Fintan standing on the doorstep, looking impatient.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. I looked a mess, my hair had dried all over my head, and I was snotty and feverish and red-eyed.

"It appears that I am your nurse," he said. "So I am taking you to the doctor and back to the cabin. The Viking arranged it through Rex last night."

"There's no one else?" I blurted out before I realized how rude it sounded. Fintan shook his head. "I am your family," he stated firmly, and I knew better than to argue with that. I couldn't get into my doctor, so we ended up back at the Urgent Care. I got the same doctor who saw me for my bruise, Dr. Uhren, I read on his name tag. How appropriate. "Busy lady," he observed.

He took some tests and came back. "It's the SIQ virus," he proclaimed grimly.

If possible, I felt worse than before.

"All we can do is treat it as any other flu. You're young and healthy, which is not good. It's very lethal. Five days, either you'll survive or you won't." Guess bed-side manner is not a prerequisite for an Urgent Care physician.

"Is there anything we can do?" The doctor shook his head.

"The only thing that helps with this flu is an injection of blood from someone who was exposed to it in 1918 and has developed antibodies," he said. "Unless you know someone or there's someone in your family who's in their nineties and has your blood type, all we can do is treat the symptoms."

"How old is your Aunt Minnie?" Fintan asked. I groaned inwardly.

"She was Gran's oldest sister, a teenager when she was born. I'd say she's ninety, ninety one," I answered reluctantly. "Call her," he said. I flipped open my phone and dialed the number.

"Hi Aunt Minnie," I sad when she picked up the phone on the first ring as always. "Would you mind telling me your blood type?"

"Why?" This in a cryptic tone.

I sighed. "Because I have the SIQ flu, and they're scared I'm going to die, and the only treatment is blood from someone who has my blood type and has developed antibodies by being exposed to the 1918 Spanish flu." I proceeded delicately here. I was, after all, speaking to a lady about her age. "There's not any chance you were, um, around then is there?"

"Yes I was around, Sookie," she snapped. "I'm ninety-one years old, which you should know. I was six months old during the Spanish flu, and if you knew any family history at all you would know Adele and I lost our brother Stanley, who was only two years old. I was exposed through him. My blood type is O positive."

Oh, God, is this really worth it? I really did want to live, and her blood type matched mine. I swallowed my automatic smartass response. "So will you do it?"

"Sure," she drawled. "Looks like you're going to owe me big time, Sookie. I'd like an invitation to Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, and I need a ride to the podiatrist every two weeks."

"Fine," I ground out between clenched teeth. "Anything else? You're ninety-one and the only doctor you're seeing regularly is a podiatrist?"

"I may be old but I'm healthier than most young people," she shot back. "If you're lucky, you'll live to be as old and healthy as me."

"Not if SIQ kills me first."

"Oh, the flu's not going to get you, girlie," she cackled. "Fate doesn't have that big a sense of humor."

I wondered what she meant, then dismissed it. "Fintan will be at your house in half an hour," I said. Fintan raised his eyebrows at me. "Fintan, eh?" Minnie openly laughed this time. "Well, this day just keeps getting better. I told you that you needed to call me more often Sookie!"

I said goodbye and clicked the phone shut. I gave Fintan Minnie's address and he left, grumbling a bit.

They returned and went to another room. I was in quarantine and the doctor wanted to keep Minnie away from me due to her age, so thank God I didn't have to see her, I was in no mood. They tested her blood and it did come back positive for antibodies. Dr. Uhren appeared amazed at Minnie's apparent health, and proclaimed her an anomaly, perfectly safe for the procedure. They transfused me and kept me a few hours, then let me go home.

Dr. Uhren said I would be contagious for five days. This was Sunday. I started getting sick Saturday night, so by Thursday I should be fine I figured.

That's pretty much how it went. After a day or two of feeling incomprehensibly rotten, I began to get better. By Tuesday not so bad, and Wednesday, pretty much back to normal. Eric greatly appreciated Fintan helping with the transfusion and Minnie. He wanted to come but as he was busy cleaning up the Andromeda aftermath I told him to stay away. He sent Pam and Bubba to visit me at night and give Fintan a break.

An unexpected benefit to the whole thing was spending time with my grandfather. We talked about Gran and my dad. Although Gran had told me much of what Fintan shared, it was interesting to get his perspective and I was touched at his obvious affection for my father, and oddly thankful that we had this time to get to know one another better. It felt kind of funny, having this aristocratic man wait on me while I was sick, but he was good-natured and even joked about it a little. He turned out to be quite a character, and I began to understand what my grandmother had seen in him, how his view of the world was so large with both human and supernatural influences, his intelligence and grace. By the end of the week we had developed a type of rapport, and I was truly beginning to think of him as family.

Eric and I also spoke every night. I asked him if I needed to go out in the Mississippi and show the Andromedas where I threw the gold. He said that "the issue has already been settled and we will speak of it later." So I dropped it. As soon as I got better I started worrying about my job. I called Alcide and got him to email me a bunch of assignments, and I worked on them most of Wednesday and Thursday.

Thursday evening Eric called me. "Saturday night, lover," he said when I answered the phone. "I will come for you."

I panicked a bit. "What if something happens and you get sick? I know I'm not supposed to be contagious, but what if there's some kind of fluke and I give it to you anyway?"

"I'll have a jar of leeches ready," he said.

"That's possibly the most romantic thing any man has ever said to me."

"Hush up and be ready for me," he said. "Twenty minutes after sunset, I will be at your door."

Friday morning someone knocked on said door and I was surprised to find Madelyn standing on the porch, holding a small pot of homemade chicken noodle soup and a blueberry cake.

"Madelyn," I shrieked, nearly throwing myself in her arms. "What are you doing here? I've had the flu!"

"Yes, but you're not contagious now," she said. "I've been waiting all week to come see you." Madelyn looked radiant, dressed in a yellow skirt, stiletto heels and a silky flowing v-neck tunic, her auburn hair newly colored and highlighted and falling in soft waves above her shoulders. I introduced her to Fintan. We all sat and chitchatted a while. Fintan asked her to stay for lunch (we were back on fairy guard food delivery) but she politely declined, saying she had obligations in Shreveport for the evening.

I worked late the rest of that night and Friday so I could do some shopping in Shreveport Friday evening. I went to Pier One and TJ Maxx and bought some rugs and cushions and candles – lots of candles, sandalwood and frankincense scented. It felt like I was getting ready for our first date. I hadn't been this excited since my first night in the love shack. I cleaned and cleaned all night long. We said we were having dinner – to hell with dinner. I am dinner, anyway. I decided to order take-out from a restaurant in Shreveport and have Eric pick it up on his way over. I could heat it up and eat it later, if I wanted it. I figured I'd be too worked up to eat.

Saturday morning I rose with purpose. I needed my hair trimmed so I went to a new salon in town and got both my nails and hair done at the same time. The hairdresser blew it out smooth and silky, the layers grown so much now, almost to my waist. My tan was pretty good, I had been lying out in the sun around the cabin during my quarantine, and I looked pretty rosy even though I had been sick. When I got back to the cabin I laid out in the sun for a couple hours, just to warm up my color a bit more. I piled my hair on top of my head and took a long time with my bath and makeup. I drank a quick shot of tequila to calm my nerves. I don't know why I felt nervous as a new bride, but the fact is, I did.

I dug out the negligee set I'd bought from Madelyn oh so very long ago. I'd forgotten how beautiful it was. I picked up the nightgown and looked at it. I marveled at the pale pinkish-tan gossamer sheer fabric, the tiny seed pearls in the gardenia pattern and pink silk ribbons, the matching robe, just as delicate and transparent as the gown.

Around eight I pulled on the nightgown and robe, along with a tiny matching lace thong I'd found in a boutique in Shreveport. I saw no reason to wear anything else; I knew we wouldn't be leaving the love shack all night. I surveyed the cabin with a smile. I'd done good, and it was beautiful, every wooden surface polished, every glass one sparking and clean. I'd made up the bed with fresh linens and my red and white wedding ring quilt, and brought in both wild flowers from the woods and big, blowsy roses in all colors from Gran's garden. I started lighting the candles. I became reflective as I thought about the week behind us, what all Eric and I had been through. I wondered what lay ahead, if things would ever settle down. I lit the last candle and turned toward the door, catching my breath. Eric stood there in silhouette, his massive frame blocking the evening light. I wondered how long he'd been watching me.

He'd dressed for warm weather in beige drawstring linen pants, wide-legged, with a pale blue shirt of the same material, completely unbuttoned, cuffs folded back. He was barefoot. Practically naked, really. One pull to the pants drawstring, slide the shirt off his shoulders…..I mentally shook myself. I needed to calm down or I was going to explode.

He moved to the table and set a take-out bag on it, then turned around to me.

He looked me up and down, and yes, I know the blood runs cold in his veins, but I swear to you I could feel the steam, the heat coming from him. He moved to right in front of me, grasping me by the hand. We didn't speak. The air hung heavy with emotion. I couldn't help but admire his exposed chest and abdomen, trying not to stare. He started to say something, stopped. He lifted me up and carried me outside to the swing and sat me in his lap. He pushed us back and forth with one foot trailing the ground, sitting sideways. I basked in his presence, my back to his chest, my head tucked under his chin.

The scent of honeysuckle pervaded the air. "Have you ever tasted honeysuckle nectar?" I asked, turning to look at him. He shook his head. "If I have I don't remember." I walked over to the thicket running by the creek and picked off a handful of the yellow and white blossoms, then returned to the swing. I sat facing him, one leg bent under me.

"Like this," I said, pulling the flower from the stem and carefully placing the end between Eric's lips. "Pull, just a little on that," I said. "It's just a tiny drop, not enough to bother you, I don't think." He did as I asked, lifting his eyebrow and smiling. The warmth in his eyes, the curve of his lips, made want to dive into him and drown. I pulled another flower apart and did the same, then fed him several more. He indulged me, his hair falling forward as he bent his neck to me. I brushed it back and reached up to kiss him, just briefly with a little tongue, so that we could taste the nectar together. "Do you like it?" I murmured, and he nodded. "Very much," he returned quietly. I turned around and leaned back against his chest once again, not wanting to break the spell. After a while he broke the silence.

"Is there love, Sookie?" he asked almost casually, but with a trace of urgency I could barely detect. I let the swing move back once more before I answered.

"It's an inadequate term," I hedged, turning and burying my face deeper in his chest. He would have none of it. He grasped my face by the chin and lifted it, forcing me to look in his eyes.

"Nevertheless," he pressed, and I knew from his tone I could hedge no more.

"So much love," I admitted in a whisper. A huge load, now a featherweight, lifted from my shoulders and floated away in the night breeze. "It really pisses me off sometimes."

Eric's shoulders shook and his eyes filled with tenderness and merriment. "Oh, lover, you will never bore me, will you?" His arms tightened as he kissed my forehead. "It will always be a battle of wills with you. I have known it from the start."

We moved back and forth in the breeze. "Don't worry, it will pass," he broke the silence again. "When I first realized I had fallen in love with you it angered me for a good while, too."

My subconscious registered the sounds of crickets chirping, and somehow I knew that sound, forever more, would bring me back to this particular juncture in time.

"You'll get over it. You and I are two peas in a pod, my dove." He stroked my head in a soothing manner, as if I were a child.

Something inside me cracked and broke free. I let go a breath I had been holding a long, long time. If ever a moment needed freezing in time, this one certainly rated. He laced our hands together and continued to swing, humming a mindless tune under his breath, like we said things like that to each other every day, like it was no momentous occasion. I wondered when the proverbial other shoe would drop.

"You're in an unusual mood tonight," I offered in a subdued tone.

"I'm happy that you're well," he said. "And I'm happy to be here. There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

I willed myself to relax and live in the moment, give up the ghost, let the remnants of my internal battle end. As if sensing my turmoil Eric opened the bond slowly and I snuggled deeper in his arms as if they could shield me, but then I welcomed the feelings. Although the tenderness and want were almost overwhelming, I was astounded at the passion and pride he sent; they so mirrored what I felt for him, and I wanted him to know it, so I opened my end and sent them right back. A funny thing happened then, as before when we opened the bond it went through us, but this time it seemed to swirl around and cocoon us, envelope us, and we sat there wrapped up in it for what seemed like a long time. I gave it all up and over to him, and it felt so good, so right. Filled with indescribable joy, at the same time I wanted to cry for all the time we'd lost.

He must have felt the twinge of sadness. "No time for that lover," he whispered hoarsely. "I'll not have it." Suddenly he raised me and switched me around on his lap and his mouth descended on mine in the mother of all kisses. I do believe he gave it all he had, which is saying a lot. I did my best to give it back. He stood up with my legs wrapped around his waist and carried me into the cabin. Instead of heading for the bed he stopped in the sitting area once again. I looked up at him as he fingered the neckline of my gown.

"This is beautiful," he said appreciatively. He touched the lace delicately, as if it were made of glass, and brushed the backs of his hands over the tops of my breasts. He continued to move his hands down the gown as he stood me up. "May I?" he asked, his hands on the ribbon belt at my waist. "You may," I smirked, never really remembering Eric asking permission to disrobe me before. He slid the robe off and gently laid it over the couch. He twirled me around, and his glance wasn't leering, really, just pleased. He ran his fingers through my hair, admiring the silky way it fell in a sheath around my head, and he even looked at my nails. "You look especially lovely tonight Sookie, but then, you are always lovely."

I pushed the shirt off his shoulders then reached down and tugged at the drawstring at his waist. He caught my fingers gently. "No hurry lover, we'll not rush tonight."

I still couldn't speak so I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. That's all we did for a few minutes, just kiss, then his hands started moving under my nightgown to my waist, to my breasts, then back down. He lifted me up and set me down on the bed, pulling the gown from my shoulders and pulling the tiny thong off at the same time.

_________

I'd never really seen Eric come unglued due to sex, but I do believe he got close that night. For once he was speechless, and of course so was I. He held me as I trembled, and I could feel the aftershocks moving through him as well. He licked the wounds on my shoulder, almost as an afterthought, and I knew he had forgotten about it for a minute, an unusual lapse for him.

"So where did you leave that jar of leeches?" I asked after a few minutes. He chuckled, pulling me back into him.

"In my car, but I don't think we'll have need of them, lover," he pushed a lock of hair behind my ear and kissed the top of it. "I am certainly feeling no pain right now."

Neither was I. After a while we bathed together and went several more rounds, each more tender than the last, until an hour before dawn. I ended up putting the take-out in the refrigerator, hungry for nothing but my vampire. As he left I watched him walk down the hill to his car and it pulled at my heart. He must have snuck back up after I closed the door because the next morning I found that damn jar of leeches on my front porch with a note that read:

_These are your pets now, my dove. I won't be needing them anymore._

_Love,_

_E_.

_PS Don't get too attached; I am the only significant bloodsucker in your life, you know. _

I cradled the jar and the note to my chest and laughed like an idiot. I'm sure I'm the only woman in the world who ever received a love note that mentioned leeches, but I knew it was going in the scrapbook anyway.

***********

A/ N Please review! You all have spoiled me, and now I'm hooked on your thoughts and comments. They are the only way I have of gauging the effectiveness of my story, plus I just enjoy them so much! I made this an extra long chapter to make up for not posting one last week, hope you enjoyed it. I have updated my diet progress (or lack thereof) since my last post on my profile for those who are following.

If you think Sookie recovered too quickly from the flu, check out the link at the bottom of my profile page, it won't let me paste it here. I didn't make it up, seriously :)

7/3 Pardon me if this is a repeat, but I'm trying to leave notes everywhere. No, this story isn't finished, I just got real busy with vacation and stuff, and then yesterday I found out my beloved English bulldog Thelma Lou has two types of cancer, heart and breast. They were going to do a boob job on her yesterday to remove the breast tumor, when they found an erratic heartbeat in pre-op and diagnosed the heart tumor. The doc says there's no treatment, we are just gonna have to watch her waste away and hopefully die in her sleep. I went through chemo with her brother Sweet Jellyroll Jackson last summer, and I don't think I will ever put an animal through that again, so I'm almost relieved there's no treatment, and I feel guilty about that. Anyway, I'm still working through this story in my head 'cause once it's over, it's over, and I don't want to leave anything out. Hopefully I'll have it all outlined out and a chapter up by the end of next week. Take care y'all ;)


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N Sorry it took so long to update but I got busy with vacation, illnesses, and drama. Trust me, you do not want to know. Thank you for all the lovely reviews, they truly make me happy. Thank you to my fabulous beta Wanda W., who puts up with my annoying nuttiness with a smile. A big shout-out to all the Twilight fans who've been reading and reviewing, welcome to you all! **

**Chapter 33**

I went around the rest of the day with a stupid grin on my face that I just couldn't wipe off to save my own life. I was pretty much worthless around the cabin, humming and grinning to myself, lost in a play-by-play of the night before. Finally I couldn't stand my brainless giddy self anymore and went down to the house to visit with my roomies for a while.

As soon as I walked into the house I could detect an air of excitement. Amelia ran up to me at the kitchen door and threw herself in my arms. "We're having a wedding!" she shrieked. "Wizno proposed to Octavia last night!"

Must have been a full moon, I mused internally. Just then Octavia sashayed around the counter, a Cheshire cat's grin on her face. She held out her left hand and a solitaire winked back at me.

"Get out," I said. She nodded, still smiling. I hurled myself into her arms, and before I knew it we were all laughing and crying like a bunch of loons.

We three girls talked the rest of the afternoon about details. Octavia said they wanted to get married quickly, but still have a real wedding. The budget would be tight but manageable. I wondered about Wizno's concerns about his debt to Fintan, but decided it would be beyond tacky to say anything. In view of time and monetary concerns we decided to have the wedding at my house and put up big tents surrounding the property. Octavia wanted a slightly different type of celebration for a brownie-witch wedding. Amelia and I agreed to help her as much as possible.

Tired but excited, we opened a bottle of wine to celebrate and whiled the afternoon away looking at magazines, Googling dresses, and giggling like schoolgirls.

"I can easily get a band or two, there are so many musicians out of work since Katrina," Octavia said. "But I need a wedding singer, someone with a truly beautiful voice. There's nothing worse than a bad wedding singer. Do you know anyone locally?"

I did not. Janelle Henson had a pretty voice, but she sang at Gran's funeral so I didn't want to ask her. Marlene Parham sang at many weddings around here, but her pitch was sometimes very iffy. The last time Marlene got hopped up on cheap wedding champagne and butchered "There Is Love" – this time at the Levi Sutton/Christine Hefner wedding - Jason and I nearly got kicked out for laughing. Gran poked us both hard enough to leave a bruise.

Octavia looked at me expectantly. "I have an idea," I said slowly. "But you'll have to give me a day or two." She nodded cheerfully. I was already so happy and seeing Octavia that way was contagious. It was indeed a joyous day.

Late in the afternoon Octavia and Amelia went to Kinko's to look at invitations. We didn't have much time, two weeks, lots of work and planning to do. I took a short nap, still tired from the late night before.

Eric got tied up at work and I really needed to rest a little more, still recovering from the after-effects of the flu. I went to work Monday. Alcide and Lance had planned a catered lunch for all the office to welcome my return, and I was super embarrassed at all the attention, but the food was sure good and I made a mental note to consider the caterer for the wedding.

I concentrated on work and the day went by quickly as I had a lot to catch up on. I wanted to stop by Fangtasia to see Eric before heading back to Bon Temps, so I brought a change of clothes in from the car at lunch. I chose a hard-to-wrinkle 'town gown,' full length with slits up to mid thigh, in swirling blue and green water colors. I wore a strapless bra underneath it because otherwise it would have looked obscene. Just a summer gown, but I knew he would like it. I brushed my hair out and slid on a pair of gladiator sandals that went well. I wanted to look good, but not trying too hard. I think I got it just right.

As soon as she saw me walk through the door of Fangtasia Pam pulled me aside. She was wearing a dark red bustier and a pencil skirt in a brocade black and red pattern, very fetching, I must say.

"I have something for you," she said. I looked at her questioningly. "The Britlingens are coming to Wizno's wedding, no?"

"How do you know about the wedding?"

"Amelia. Now, are you going to invite the Britlingens?"

"It's up to Octavia and Wizno I suppose."

She looked thoughtful. "Well, suggest that they do. Because you know you agreed to them having a public make-out session with my master."

"Yes," I answered a tad curtly.

"Do you remember asking me for material some time ago? For a joke to play on Eric?"

"Yes, and you never gave me anything."

"Well, I thought of something." She grinned. "Eric has a turn-off when it comes to women - a pretty significant one, I would say."

This conversation was getting interesting.

"And what would that be?"

"Feet. Specifically, big feet on women. Women who have big Sasquatch, troll-like feet gross him out. He can't stand it. Back when…." she hesitated here, "back when I was in charge of arranging his - entertainment and meals - specifically he instructed me for centuries to avoid sending him women with big ugly feet."

"I wear a seven and a half," I stated flatly. "And I take care of them. I would not call them ugly. I have a little bit of a nasty-foot phobia my own self."

"I'm not talking about you. Have you ever seen a Britlingen's feet?"

I shook my head. Pam shuddered. I don't recall that I had ever seen her shudder before.

"Absolutely hideous. Their big toes are as long as my index finger. They could drive a car with those feet. You need to make sure they cash in their marker for an Eric two-on-one session. I'll make sure they're wearing sandals at the wedding."

"I'm not screwing up Octavia's wedding with a big-footed Britlingen gross-out scene."

"There will be no scene, it will all be discreet, I will guarantee it."

"Can you afford to risk it? Aren't you in enough trouble with him already?"

Her eyes flashed. "That's the point. I've spent the last week raking through swamp grass searching for excruciatingly minuscule Shake N Bake'd Andromeda parts. Not to mention trying to make that environmentally-conscious co-worker of yours happy," she snarled. "Although he is awful easy on the eyes. It's time for me to have a little fun."

I shrugged. "You know Eric better than I do, I guess. And don't mess with Lance; he's a nice guy."

"Don't worry, Sookie, your little friend is safe with me. As far as my master - if we handle it right, he'll never suspect a thing," she said and grinned in a decidedly disturbing manner. "Are you jealous that Octavia's getting married?" she then asked out of the blue. That flew all over me.

"I think not," I returned in a tone that brooked no further discussion, I hoped.

"I have read that young, fertile human women often get jealous of others' weddings and pregnancies." I couldn't think of anything to say so I snorted. She gave me a knowing look but did not pursue the topic, thankfully. I'd had just about enough Pam for the evening and started back toward the office. Eric was seated at his desk, frowning at the computer screen when I walked in. He was wearing jeans and another cotton collared shirt, unbuttoned all the way.

"You are early tonight, my dove," he said with a smile, his eyes sparkling a bit. "Are you that anxious to see me?" he leaned back in his chair and the shirt fell open, exposing his entire chest. My eyes traveled from his navel, across his abdomen and up his pectorals to his neck, then his chin. I shivered, remembering that rough, talented chin....a dimple creased his cheek, he knew exactly what I was thinking.

"I need to go to Carville," I said without preamble, frowning a bit. I really didn't like him wearing his shirt open like that around all the fang banging ho's that hang around Fangtasia.

He raised an eyebrow. "What for?"

"I need to see someone I met there." He looked at me quizzically and I explained about Catherine.

"I'm not sure Carville is secure yet," he said. "I'm not certain I can allow you to go there."

"I wasn't asking permission," I tried to soften my voice and failed.

He sighed. "Don't be stupid, Sookie."

"We haven't talked about what you're doing, what's happening there. Do you think you could fill me in?"

He sat back down in his desk and gave me a measuring look. "I made a deal with the Andromedas. First of all, they broke all types of inter-galactic treatises when they invaded Earth. Because of this we had the advantage, so I negotiated. We get to keep the gold, the blood, and the cryo freezers, which are state of the art. We paid all the costs of the battle back to the war chests, but there was a good bit left over. A third of the money will go into a general Supe slush fund. I paid off Wizno's debts to Fintan with a third. The other third…" he appeared a little uncomfortable here, "the other third will go into a trust fund for you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The fairies, the two-natured and the vampires agreed to do it," he said. "We had a meeting and a vote." My eyes opened wide and I drew a deep breath, getting ready to go off. He beat me to it.

"Sookie, without you it would have been very difficult for the war to turn out the way that it did. Everyone got what they wanted out of the deal. The Andromedas' technology toward the preservation of blood will be very useful to us in the future. The stores of their blood will save lives. Not only human lives, but also vampire lives."

I heard his words but they didn't completely register. I felt like the poor cousin again. After all my work…

"Hey, most of that gold is sitting at the bottom of the Mississippi," I pointed out tartly. "How could you have done anything with it?"

"Wizno and I went out a couple of nights ago while you were recovering from the flu and retrieved it." Eric said smugly. "He remembered the approximate area, and as he's a brownie, he honed in on the exact place. I dove into the water and got both suitcases. That's why I paid off his debts, because it would have been almost impossible to find the gold otherwise."

"You are a certified diver?"

"I can swim, I have no need for oxygen, and I can see in the dark," he said reasonably. "What better diver is there?" I remained silent.

"I don't suppose you needed my help at all then," I said somewhat loftily. I felt slow and somewhat played.

"We needed your help very much, Sookie, and you know it. It's not charity, it's a small token of appreciation. It's in everyone's best interest that you are, and feel, well-treated."

"How much?"

"It's not that much money, just enough to let you breathe a little. I knew you wouldn't take it from me." I waited. He sighed.

"$150,000. To be invested in such a manner that you can either draw dividends from or leave it alone to draw interest. You can forget it exists as far as I'm concerned. It is a little security, nothing more."

"It's not necessary."

"You can give it back at any time just for now, Sookie, keep it and think about it. If you never need it you can give it to charity one day if you want to. But for now, it would make me happy if you would just hold onto it and think about it for a while."

I glared at him. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the desktop before continuing.

"It drives me crazy, knowing you're running around town, all over Bon Temps and Shreveport getting into God knows what, during the daylight hours when I cannot help you, knowing you have very little - resources - at your disposal," he retorted abruptly. "We had to do something with it, and this is what everyone unanimously agreed would be the best."

"I have a good job. I am young and able-bodied. I don't need handouts or charity…"

"You can do anything with it you wish. Give it away. Throw it down a hole." His voice was taking on a strident and decidedly irritated tone.

I decided to let the subject go for now. I gathered my keys.

"Are we leaving?" he asked, standing up.

I gave him a double-take. "I didn't know we were going anywhere together. I thought I was just stopping by to visit with you for a bit."

He gave me a mocking glance. "Did you think I dressed like this for the masses, my dove? I'd planned on leaving with you all along." My insides did a little happy dance, but in light of the mood at hand I squashed down my joy. "All righty then," I said coolly. "I suppose you want to drive." He nodded and took his keys from their hook near the door.

The drive was silent mostly, but more relaxed than I'd expected. I cursed again at how hard it was for me to stay mad in his presence. I wondered if I was feeling somewhat snippy because of the money, or because Pam had annoyed me with the Octavia jealousy question, or did it have to do with the fact I was uncomfortable about the closeness Eric and I had shared two nights before. Before I had any longer to ponder upon that train of thought he reached over and untied the straps from behind my neck.

"I like the dress," he said approvingly. "Are you wearing anything under it?"

"Yes," I managed to gasp as his fingers toyed lightly with the curls at the nape of my neck.

"Pity," he said, and then unexpectedly turned his attention back to the road. He left his hand, though, fingers drumming lightly against my neck. My breath became a little shallow. I closed my eyes and tried to live in the present, reminding myself that I was riding in the car with the only man I wanted to be riding in a car with, period. We fell silent for the next little stretch of time.

"Park at the house," I said as we pulled onto Hummingbird Lane. "I want to show you something."

I'd been planning this surprise for a few weeks. I'd asked Wizno to string mini-lights along the garden rows so I could see to show Eric all the progress our seedlings were making. He'd done me proud and hung row after row of light. Amelia and Octavia were shopping for the wedding and spending the night in New Orleans tonight, but they'd had the forethought to turn the lights on before they left this evening, just in case. It looked magical, with all the lights twinkling against the greenery and ripening vegetables. I couldn't wait to jump out of the car. Eric regarded me with an amused expression, but followed me willingly enough as I grabbed his hand and led the way.

We walked along the rows in silence. I noticed that the tomatoes were heavy with fruit and needed tying up. I showed Eric how and he knelt in the dirt right beside me. We tied up the branches side by side. I watched his hands again, amazed at how quickly and efficiently he worked. I marveled at how gently he handled the plants – although I knew first hand, all too well, how gentle that touch could be.

"Some things are ready to be picked," I said. "Do you want to do that with me?" He agreed and I got a basket from the back porch and almost ran back to him, hurrying in case he changed his mind. I showed him which things were ready, cucumbers and zucchini and such, although he did seem to have an instinct about it.

He picked a handful of baby squash and handed them to me.

"Will you cook these and eat them at my house tomorrow night?" He asked with a smile. I looked at the tiny squash in his giant hand and something grabbed at my throat. I felt inexplicably silly at my response, and even more so considering what I was about to do. We finished harvesting and Eric looked as though he might go inside. I mustered the courage to speak, hoping he wouldn't laugh at me.

"Wait, I have a surprise for you," I said hurriedly. "Come over here to the far end of the garden."

We moved over to the corner together. I pointed proudly at the leafy green bunches growing out of the ground.

Eric looked dubious.

"That's nice," he said with uncertainly. "Um, what are they?"

"Carrots, silly," I said excitedly. "I grew them for you especially. Remember, you told me you pulled up carrots with your mother when you were little?"

He nodded hesitantly. "Yes, I do remember. But you said you couldn't grow carrots."

"Well, I couldn't, but Wizno could. He knew some tricks to show me," I said happily. "They're ready now."

"Ready for what?"

"For you to pull them up, just like you did when you were a little kid. Do you remember how?"

I placed my hand over his and guided it to the lacy green carrot top, the biggest one I could find. Carefully, I closed his fingers around it, and then drew my hand back. "Now pull up," I said softly.

Never taking his eyes off me, his expression unfathomable, he pulled up the carrot and then I almost laughed as he examined it as if it was a foreign object, something strange and perhaps unpleasant. He bent his knees and reached for another, deliberately this time, and pulled it up also. He then went slowly and methodically about pulling up several more.

I watched the play of emotions across his face. Suddenly through the bond or perhaps in spite of it, my mind's eye flashed to Eric as a child, standing before me at about six or seven years old, with a cap of shining blond hair and the bluest of blue eyes. He was dressed in a simple brown tunic, tanned legs and arms showing, his slightly grubby little feet contrasting against the dark, rich soil of an ancient garden patch. My mouth formed a silent 'oh' as my eyes locked with his, a world of feeling between us. I inwardly blessed every crooked turn of fate, all the good and all the bad, that guided my way to being here right now.

For a brief and shining moment he rewarded me with a heartbreakingly earnest look, unshielded, unbroken and untainted by all the many years and deeds that had passed. Too quickly he replaced it with his usual impassive expression, much to my abject disappointment. My chest literally ached at the loss.

We just stood then, regarding one another. I felt suddenly awkward with the situation.

"Are you mad?" I asked, at a loss for further words.

"No, I am not," he said, and his eyes became intent and fixed on my face. "I am pretty damn far from mad."

He rose up and kissed me hard, the bunch of carrots still in his hands. He pulled away; searched my eyes for something, then stepped further away and turned his back to me.

"You have to take the money, and you have to stay safe," he bit the words out sharply over his shoulder. "You have to quit working so hard and trying to take care of everyone else and risking your life for any other being who happens to fall your way. You have to …"

"Eric I didn't mean to upset you," I stumbled out. "I don't know what I did."

He turned toward his car, made a step toward it. I stopped him, laying my hand on his wrist.

"Promise me," I said. He half-turned, a smirking grin playing at the corner of his mouth. When he saw my expression the smirk died, his lips parted and his eyes darkened, waiting. I gathered my dress between my legs and dropped down on my knees in the dirt between the rows, pulling him by the hand. He sank down beside me surprisingly without much hesitation, dropping the carrots gently to the ground. Suddenly shy, I leaned into his neck as if I were sharing some great confidence.

"Promise me you won't leave angry." I couldn't help but inhale and place my hand against his bare chest at the same time. "Promise me you won't leave."

"Yes," he said softly. He pushed my hair back from my face and laid the lightest of feather kisses on my brow.

"Promise me," he whispered in that deep, husky voice that haunts my dreams. I nodded, waiting.

"Promise me you'll stay alive," he said.

"Yes," I answered, and that's all the talking we did for a good while.

****************

_**As always, I await your thoughts and opinions, they are the much-needed sunshine to my ever-clouding day....t**__**he diet saga "As Cindy Starves" has been updated on my profile page for anyone who is following....**_ :) misscyn


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N Just a quick chapter for the weekend so you all won't forget 'the Cracker' as maegansmom so amusingly called it in her review. I'm going to Atlanta to put my daughter on a plane to fly by herself to Vancouver. I'm nervous, she's 17, but still…my baby, you know how it is. Anyway, I knew I would be gone for the weekend so I wanted to get this to you. All my gratitude to the world's greatest beta, Wanda W., you are the bomb, girl, and I would not make it without you! Take care everyone :)Misscyn**

**Chapter 34**

As luck would have it Minnie's first podiatrist appointment after we made our deal was the following Thursday. She called to remind me and also to tell me that the Urgent Care had called her and asked her to give more blood for flu treatments. Apparently she enjoyed the attention while she saved some lives so it's all good.

About 10 am I pulled up outside her little clapboard house and was immediately reminded too much of Gran. The old metal porch rockers, the faded flowered cushions, the shabby gentility of it all took me back and made me suddenly acutely aware of the void her death had left inside.

I composed myself and knocked on the door and Minnie answered it a little breathlessly, not her usual 'snake waiting to strike' mode. She seemed a bit at a loss at someone coming to get her. What a lonely life she must lead, I mused as we walked to the car. Of course, she had no one to blame but herself, I reminded myself quickly.

Minnie fussed with her collar and patted her hair, then folded her hands in her lap like she was in church. We rode is silence for a few minutes. The podiatrist's office was twenty minutes away, this side of Shreveport.

"So," I started slowly, wanting to know, not wanting to know, "How about telling me some of our history, hmm?"

"I don't know if I'm in the humor today," she pursed her lips and gave me a sideways glance. "Maybe next time."

"Not fair, Minnie."

"You know, going to the doctor always makes me sad. You get my age, you never know when he's going to say. I may only have a week to live," she said.

"Dr. Chamblin's a podiatrist, Minnie," I said firmly. "It's not likely that he's going to read you your last rites."

"I'm living on borrowed time, missy," she retorted. "No one knows it better than I do."

I decided to change the subject. "Do you know about Hunter?" I asked. "Hadley's little boy, about six years old? Did you know he's a telepath too?"

Her eyes got big and round and just for a second, I detected some feeling, a touch of humanity there.

"A child," she whispered softly. "I thought we were out of the woods with that – until Jason knocked some wench up or you decided to spit one out, that is.

"Although from what I hear about your penchant for undead boyfriends, that's not going to happen." Even at her age, Minnie never missed the opportunity to get a jab in.

"Easy, old girl," I said. "That's a touchy subject."

"It's awful hard on the little ones, you know that, Sookie. One reason why I never had any children. And you'd better be glad Niall's not pushing some fairy sperm donor on you," she said bitterly. "Don't think he's above it. Oh, but did he get excited when Adele turned up pregnant with Corbett and then again with Linda." She laughed a little at my expression.

"They call it line breeding in the canine show dog world, Sookie," her demeanor turned decidedly sly. "Every time I watch the Westminster show I think of you. Niall never thought it would take a couple of generations to get it right. Did you really think your special gift and your fairy bloodline were coincidences?"

I got that feeling again, that evil feeling that grabs at your chest, mind, and stomach. What did she mean by the 'line breeding' comment? Did Niall try to get Minnie pregnant with a fairy child back in the day? Why? I swallowed and tried to file her nasty little comments away for later, as unsettling as they were. She's an evil old witch, Sookie, I told myself. Don't let her get to you.

"Are we going to talk about what we have in common or not Minnie? I really need your help understanding where it came from."

She looked out the window. "They thought I was touched in the head, you know. Put me in special education classes. It wasn't that I couldn't learn, it was just hard, with all the other kids' thoughts comin' in on me all the time."

I swallowed and gripped the steering wheel. I could relate to this all too well.

"Then they took me to Bon Temps' only sorry excuse for a psychiatrist. As soon as I told him I could hear voices, well, that was it. Schizophrenic, he said. It was the Depression; there wasn't any money for fancy doctors or second opinions. He loaded me up on lithium and my parents shipped me off to a state institution.

"You ever been to one of those places, Sookie? They're depressing as all get out anyway, and when you can hear people's thoughts – I spent most of my teenage years wondering who was protecting who from what. The people on the inside were mostly harmless- unable to cope, unable to function, but harmless. Seemed like the people on the outside were the really insane ones, they were just too crafty to get caught.

"I spent ten years there before I could convince people the voices were gone. The drugs helped, although it's like living in a world that's got all the edges wrapped in cellophane. By the time I was eighteen I had trained myself to tune them out, tune them all out.

"I came back to Bon Temps. There were no boyfriends, not for Crazy Minnie. Either I was retarded or mentally ill, folks didn't know which, and they didn't much care. I was able to talk my way into that phone company job, and I was too scared to ever quit it. Jobs were scarce around her, and who was going to hire me? Besides, it was convenient, the way I could blame knowin' things on hearing gossip through the lines, eavesdropping. Heck, I didn't need to listen, you know as well as I do how people think. Pretty soon, most of the people who knew about my little quirk either forgot about it or died. I was just an old crazy spinster after that."

Although the story did touch me, my patience was wearing a little thin. "Where'd it come from, Minnie?"

"That's where it gets complicated, my dear. I'll tell you one day, but I'm just not sure you're ready yet. This ain't no simple family secret, Sookie."

"Is there any such thing as a simple family secret?" I huffed. In response Minnie looked me dead on in the face and projected an image to me that nearly took my breath away. She chuckled, then patted me on the hand.

"I won't make you wait much longer. I don't have that much time left, and who knows when my mind is going to go? But if you and I ever decided to combine our forces," she leaned over conspiratorially and tapped my arm lightly, "We might just be a formidable pair."

I didn't know what the hell she was talking about, but her words sent a shiver up my spine anyway. Just then we pulled up at the podiatrist's and we had to go in as it was time for the appointment. I read some magazines while she was in with the doctor and tried to calm myself by looking at bridal magazines. Octavia really needed to find a dress, and I needed something to wear also. She wanted to wear something original, that reflected her style and of course, her being a witch and all that. She and Amelia had no luck in New Orleans. I was clueless. I decided I needed to talk to Madelyn about all that and made a mental note to stop by her shop on my lunch hour the next day.

Minnie came out of the doctor's office mad as a wet hen. Apparently he told her that there was nothing wrong with her and it put her in a foul mood.

"All of the ladies at church have various illnesses to complain about," she groused as we walked to the car. "It's like I don't have anything to add to the conversation."

"Well, Minnie, it's not like being in perfect health is a bad thing," I tried to say reasonably.

'There is something wrong with me," she said. "These quack doctors around here can't diagnose anything. I get tired too easy and my feet hurt if I walk more than a mile or two."

"You're ninety-one years old Minnie, You're supposed to get tired easy. Your feet are supposed to hurt if you walk a long distance."

She stared out the window again, sulking. "I know there's something wrong with me, I know I have to have some kind of a condition. Dr. Chamblin couldn't find his ass if you handed it to him in a paper bag," she pulled at an imaginary thread on her blouse as she spoke.

"I missed my Meals On Wheels delivery for this, and didn't even get a good sickness story out of it."

"Maybe you should go to an internist or something, Minnie." She snorted again. I looked over at her sideways. Yes, I know she's an evil old witch, who sent me some horrifying mental images, and I knew she was filled chock-full to the brim with nastiness. But she was lonely and miserable; she was my blood, and we shared a very significant family trait. I felt sorrow and regret for her sad little life, and realized as painful as my childhood had been, I was awful lucky to have been born 65 years later than Minnie, not to mention being brought up by Gran. My heart went out just a little. I still had many questions, but I decided to try to have a pleasant evening instead.

I looked at the clock on the dash. It was nearly 6 pm and Minnie missed her meal. I could afford an indulgence born of kindness, I decided.

"Would you like to get a little dinner with me?" I asked. She looked surprised, then nodded. We were near the mall and I spotted a new PF Chang's. I know it's a chain, but I'd heard some good things about the food. "How about there?"

She was, much to my amazement, a delightful dinner companion. You would have thought I'd flown her to Hong Kong. She got so caught so up in the cookie-cutter chain-restaurant atmosphere I didn't have the heart to tell her it was all fake as hell.

We had a lovely meal. Afterwards Minnie said she wasn't tired and we took a stroll through the mall. We passed a nail salon and on impulse I grabbed her arm. "Let's go in here and get a pedicure; that might make your feet feel better." She put up a bit of a fuss but eventually agreed. All the talk with Pam about the Britlingens and now Minnie complaining about her feet had me ready for a pedicure myself.

A small dark-haired man greeted Minnie and headed her toward the pedicure chairs. A Korean man approached me and introduced himself as Henry. We picked out our colors and the nail techs started filling the tubs. Minnie glared at her tech when he asked her to roll up her pants. Thank God she'd shaved. I braced myself for an embarrassing exchange but she lay back in the chair and closed her eyes and didn't say anything else. That lady was nothing if not full of surprises.

Of course my cell phone rang as soon as I got settled in the chair. I snapped it open and glanced at the number. Pam.

"What's up, Pam?"

"My master asked me to call you and tell you he is meeting with the King tonight, and the meeting may go late," she said. "So you may not get to talk to him this evening."

Aw, as much as I hated to admit it, I did look forward to our evening call. It had become the unequivocal highlight of my day.

"Okay," I said, trying not to sound too disappointed.

"So, what are you up to?" she asked. "I hear water running."

"Nothing," I said guardedly.

"Lady could you hold your leg up, please?" Henry was really getting into exfoliating my feet and legs.

"Who's that?" Pam's interest was definitely peaked.

"No one, Pam. Tell Eric I'll talk to him tomorrow." I wanted off that phone.

"I like your color. That vacation color," Henry said, admiring the glossy OPI "Please don't Socratease me" bottle. I'd have to call it a very festive shade of orangey-red myself.

"Is that Henry?" Pam sounded like she'd just found a hundred-dollar bill in an old pair of jeans. "Are you getting a pedicure at the mall?"

Busted. "What of it?" I replied grumpily.

"After what we talked about the other day?" Her voice literally began to trill. "Are you feeling a little insecure, Sookie?"

"No, I told you I take care of my feet," I snapped. "I just took my aunt because she needed one and I decide to get one too as long as we were here."

"Ohh," Pam said, chuckling loudly and completely ignoring my defense. "Ooohh, and the absolute shame of it is I can't tell my master or it will give away our little plan. That's funny Sookie. How you do amuse me."

"Glad to be of service," I returned a little too snappily. "What can else I do for you?"

"This work friend of yours, Lance," Pam said. A red flag went up in my head. "I'm thinking I'm going to do him." That Pam, not one for wasting words.

"He is very handsome, and he told me the other night when we were cleaning the swamp that although he is part Were, he doesn't get furry, which makes the prospects – a great deal more palatable."

"Hmmph." I really didn't like the idea of Pam and Lance together, for reasons too complicated for me to pin down right then. I looked down and saw Henry frowning at my foot. What was wrong with my foot? I tried to read his mind but got a bunch of gobbledy-gook in Korean, with just a few English words mixed in.

"So, you worked with him before you and Eric were official, and he wanted to ask you out, correct?"

Definitely up to no good. "Yes," I said wearily.

"So did you ever have sex with him?"

"God no, Pam." I squeaked. My foot splashed in the water and Henry shot me an irritated look.

"But he was interested, and so were you, and you work in an office together," she continued.

"What's your point?" I tried to make my voice noncommittal, failed.

"And you never had sex with him? Not even on a Wednesday?"

What the hell? "What does Wednesday have to do with it, Pam?"

"Hump day," Pam said. "In human offices Wednesday is hump day. Did you never even have sex with him on hump day?"

I sighed heavily. I know that vampires often find my ignorance and youth trying, but sometimes, I swear, talking to Pam is like having a conversation with Jane Curtin in an old SNL Conehead skit.

"That's not really how hump day works, Pam."

"Maybe not for you," she snarked.

"Not for anybody, Pam."

"Mm," she sniffed. "Pity."

I rubbed my face with my hand.

"Tell Henry I said hello, Sookie."

A new, frightening thought occurred to me.

"Wait. The king has returned to Louisiana and wants to talk to Eric? Is he in trouble for the Andromeda thing?"

"Maybe, maybe not," she said. "But I can tell you that with this king, things are never good. We'll just have to wait and see."

**_***********_**

**_So, it's going to take me a chapter or two more than I thought to wrap this up, hope you don't mind, kind readers. . God bless Misscyn_**

7/24 This same note is on my profile - I'm working on finishing Chapter 35 folks, but I may wait until I have a couple or three chapters done before I post again - I'll probably change my mind, but that's what I'm thinking right now. Daughter made it to Vancouver and she's getting on a cruise ship to Alaska for 10 days tomorrow, lucky little dog. My uncle and aunt are taking her on this trip as a graduation present. Have a great weekend :)


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N Thank you for all your wonderful reviews and PM's. I'm afraid they may have become my 'narcissistic supply' – yes, look that up, fellow fan fic writers, I had to, and it's a weensy bit alarming. Maybe I read too much **_**Oprah**_** magazine. Mega thanks to my beta Wanda W., I am continuously amazed at how you do your thing, girl. Take care, Misscyn **

**Chapter 35**

I clicked my phone shut. Well shit, that didn't sound good. What did Felipe have to complain about, he bailed on the whole Andromeda mess and Eric cleaned it up for him, quite brilliantly, I might add. Supes. Men. Politics. Go figure.

"Bad news?" Minnie looked decidedly perky. Apparently she smelled blood.

"Nunya," I clipped. My phone rang again. I looked at the caller ID, Pam. "Yes?" I answered.

"There's been a new development and Eric just asked if you could stop by here for a second since you're in Shreveport. The king would like a quick word with you."

Oh God.

"I can't, Pam," I tried to sound regretful. "I have my aunt with me."

"Your aunt? Your Aunt Minnie? From the Pure Cupid party?" Pam returned in a lilting tone. I groaned inwardly. "Oh, do bring her, Sookie, I'd just love to see her. She's a hoot. We had such a time together playing with the….merchandise that night."

I bet, I thought darkly. "I can't Pam. She's tired, she needs to get home. You know she's ninety-one years…"

"I am most certainly not tired. Don't talk about me like I'm not here. And it's not polite to discuss a lady's age; did Adele never teach you any manners? Where do you need to go?" Minnie demanded, sounding definitely more chipper.

"A _vampire bar_, Minnie," I said in an ominous tone that I was sure would end the need for further discussion. I was wrong.

"Oh, yes," Minnie said, her eyes lighting up. "I haven't been to a bar in ages, and never a vampire bar. I could have a cocktail even. What an exciting evening, Sookie. And here I was thinking you were a stick in the mud."

"I heard that. So it's settled," Pam said in a smug tone. "I can see I don't call you nearly enough, Sookie. You're always into something interesting. Be here within the hour, and don't forget Minnie."

I gritted my teeth. "Whatever."

"And be sure to keep your feet under those lights the entire time, Sookie, you wouldn't want to smear the polish." On that note, I hung up the phone.

We sat under the lights whole time. Pam would be so proud. I paid for the pedicures and tipped the techs. All I could think of during that long ten minutes while my toes were drying was what was I going to do with Minnie at Fangtasia while I talked to the king? My head started to hurt just a little bit. I looked down at my outfit – jeans and a tissue weight top that was pretty attractive, low-cut with a knot at the cleavage, in batiked golds, yellows and orange-reds that went well with my tan and hair. I had on a pair of three-inch slides. At least the polish matches, I thought.

"This is a different type of place, Minnie," I warned as we walked to the car. She snorted. "I spent my formative years in a loony bin and I've been reading peoples minds since Prohibition," she said. "I can assure you that nothing will shock me."

"Which loony bin was it, Minnie?" I asked.

She averted her eyes by studying her watch. "Moorehead," she said quietly. I swallowed hard. Even I had heard about how rough that place was, and it had been closed twenty years. Her earlier talk about it being not that bad must have been bravado, at least in part. On impulse I reached over and squeezed her wrist, smiling a little. "You're a tough old bird, aren't you, Minnie?" I whispered. She nodded. I thought I caught a glint of a tear in her eye, but surely I was wrong.

"Don't go getting sentimental on me, Sookie. You were always a sap, even as a little kid." There she is, the Minnie I grew to know and love.

We pulled out of the parking lot and headed to Fangtasia.

"Why didn't my grandmother ever try to get us together?" I asked. 'Why didn't she think you could help me?"

Minnie shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Well, Adele and I never had a good relationship," she said. "I was so much older, and she thought me too bossy. And I gave her a hard time about getting pregnant by that fairy, and then never explaining to her children their history, with both the fairies and your and my little gift. I told her she was reproducing irresponsibly and holding back knowledge that could hurt people. I basically called her a bad mother. She never forgave me. I regret it now. She was a most wonderful mother, but I still say she did you kids no favors with all the secrets and lies."

"Kinda like you're doing now by not answering my questions?" I just couldn't resist.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back wearily against the headrest. She didn't fool me.

"All in good time Sookie, all in good time. Right now I'm trying to explain the reason for the decades-long estrangement. When Corbett and your mother were killed, I pretty much told Adele she had it coming," Minnie had the grace to look ashamed. "It was wrong. It hurt her deeply at a time when she was already feeling indescribable pain. I do believe it's the most evil thing I have ever done."

Ditto. I really didn't like Minnie one bit at that moment. At least her sorry explanation shed some light on why I didn't see her much after about the age of seven or eight.

"Bet you never apologized to her, did you?"

Minnie shifted her eyes to me angrily. "How do you apologize for something like that?"

"The only way you can, Minnie. You say you're sorry, and then you let her say what she needs to say, even if it hurts, because you deserve it. But it's too late now, isn't it?"

Probably mean of me to say that last part. Minnie turned away and wouldn't talk or look at me for the rest of the trip.

I pulled into the parking lot of Fangtasia with a foreboding sense of doom. Pam met us at the door and swept Minnie over to a table where they immediately began cutting up, laughing and talking. Eric walked out of his office and headed straight for me. He had on a pair of dark grey slacks and a ruby-red dress shirt. It suited him. His hair was braided, and that always did things to me for some reason. Damn he's hot, I thought for the thousandth time, what's he doing with me again?

"What's up with that?" I gestured toward Pam and Minnie. He shrugged. "Where's Felipe?"

"We took a dinner break," he said. I grimaced.

Eric got me a drink and motioned for me to follow him to the back. We entered the employee bathroom, where he took the showerhead, which was on a long, flexible cord, and placed it in the sink, water running. I looked at him, puzzled. He then proceeded to squeeze me in the shower stall with him. It was way too small for two people, and just made him appear even bigger and more intimidating somehow.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"I don't think they would bug the employee bathroom," he said, "but I'm leaving the water running for background noise, just in case. Plus," here he gave his signature leer, "I thought it would be fun." He moved against me. "Stop that," I said, swatting against him. He smelled wonderful, and his eyes were that deep blue they sometimes turn, the hue that always makes me want to get lost in them, in him ….I tried to focus.

"The king would like to thank you for your part in the battle," he said. "He says he is most grateful." Eric's tone gave me pause.

"But he's really not, I take it."

"No, he appears to be," Eric looked around carefully and lowered his voice moving in closely to my ear. I could feel his lips so close to my face and I shivered. "unhappy about something. Sulking, I think is the correct term."

"Why?"

"Several different reasons, if I had to say."

We stood in the shower, crammed up against each other. I felt more than slightly ridiculous and also more than a little aroused.

"The king picked several young women and one young man from the dance floor to entertain," he said. "I was able to pass because I said you were on your way." I nodded, not comprehending.

"I left him and his entourage so they could dine," he said pointedly, "while I came out to meet you." I still stared blankly.

"He knows we are together now, Sookie."

Oh, duh. Eric wanted to feed. My traitorous body responded while my mind rebelled. Apparently he could sense my hesitation. "It needs to be on the neck in order to properly state my…to make my point," he continued. He must have known those words would have set my hackles up, because his back started to stiffen even before I could respond.

"But Eric, I have my aunt here," I tried not to whine. "How am I going to explain fang marks to her?"

"You are a grown woman Sookie, why do you have to explain anything?"

"Never mind the why," I snapped. "Rest assured I will have to." He gave me a measuring look. I sighed. Fact is, I'm with a vampire, he has to feed, and I don't want him feeding on anyone else. He waited until I got here, even with the king watching. It's the least I could do.

"Fine," I said. "But we don't have much time." I pushed my hair back and turned my head away, baring my neck. Eric's fangs snapped down, and he touched my neck lightly, then moved his hand to my breast. I pushed his hand away. "No time, Eric." He gave me a rueful look.

"Not really the way I'd like to do it," he said. "It's going to hurt, Sookie, because you're not aroused enough."

"I know," I said softly. Eric pressed his lips against my forehead almost reverently; my heart fluttered, and then he bit quickly, in the curve between my shoulder and neck; it stung, but not too bad. We were pressed up so closely together he moaned as he drank and I could feel him begin to harden through his jeans. I pulled back from him and experienced a mental flashback to the bonding in Rhodes, but from his point of view as he looked at me. I could feel his intense protectiveness, see that he truly felt it was the best thing to do, and then it was gone. I looked at his face and I could tell he was thinking the same thing.

'Lover," he whispered hoarsely, running his hand down my cheek. He lowered his lips to my neck and cleansed the wound gently, then looked back up at me. "Did you feel that, through the bond? Did you see us in Rhodes?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

"You were so upset with me that night. You left and cried in a stairwell like a lost little girl. I could feel you through the bond. I stood on the other side of the exit door and waited until you calmed down. Could you feel me?"

Honestly, I don't think I did. I had been too distraught about the whole thing.

"It wasn't very nice Eric, the way you….responded, and the way you made sure Quinn knew about it," I said, trying not to sound as shrewish as I felt.

"I assure you I could not help but respond that way," he said quietly. "I knew it to be a significant event in my life as well as yours. I'd wanted you and waited for you such a long time. I knew we were close during my curse even though I couldn't remember it. As for letting Quinn know," he smiled a little at this, "I considered that to be a bonus."

I opened my mouth to tell him just exactly what I though about that but he lay his fingers over my mouth before I could start. "But when I realized how much it pained you, I did regret my actions that night _after_ the exchange, but only those actions after. Whatever happens to us, I want you to know I have never regretted bonding with you, Sookie."

Wow, I think Eric Northman may have just apologized. I need to put a gold star on my calendar by this day so I'll remember, I thought cattily. I realized he was looking at me expectantly and instantly panicked. Surely he didn't expect me to say I never regretted the bonding?

I racked my brain for an appropriate response. 'Eric, I…." I choked on the words.

His expression then spoke of resignation and disappointment. Believe me, you don't ever want to see that look on his face. It nearly killed me.

"I felt honored to fight the Andromedas beside you," he continued. "I was – I am - very proud of you, Sookie."

His words began to register. 'Whatever happens to us..' What did he mean by that? Or by the 'proud of you' comment? I tried to speak again but he stopped me. "Never mind, lover, never mind. We will speak of this later."

We got out of the shower awkwardly and headed for the door. Her smoothed my hair and straightened my neckline so that the fang marks were visible but not on display. I appreciated that. "Watch yourself in there," he said, nodding to his office as we headed out the bathroom door. Apparently that was all the pre-game talk I was going to get. Something about his demeanor struck me as decidedly off.

He reached over and laced his fingers with mine. "Sometime we need to talk," he said in an ominous tone, his face stoic. My stomach did a little flip.

"Okay," I returned. "When?"

"I'll let you know," he said. His cell phone buzzed. "Showtime."

We walked out just as three fangbangers made their way from Eric's office back to the dance floor. I tried not to look as disgusted as I felt, right before I realized I didn't looked very different from them, coming out of the bathroom with my brand new battle scars. I shot Eric a dirty look which he studiously ignored.

Felipe, Sandy, and Victor were waiting inside. The king was dressed casually, in dark khaki pants and a button down shirt. He still managed to look regal, just from the way carried himself, and just as handsome as I remembered.

"Meez Stackhouse," Felipe said. He was a beautiful man and his face was a little flushed, all rosy from his …dinner. "So nice of you to join us and to entertain your bonded on such short notice." His eyes lingered on my neck.

"I aim to please," I said a tad more shortly than I intended. Eric gave me a warning glance. I softened my smile and tried to look warmly at the king. "It is so good to have you back," I lied.

"I would just like to thank you for all you did for the supernatural community and the vampire one in particular. May I call you Sookie?" I nodded.

"I don't like to take credit for too much," I said. "Eric brought it all together."

"Yes, Eric did an outstanding job," Felipe's eyes flashed to Eric, who returned his glance, stare for stare. "It's almost like he didn't need me at all."

"It is my responsibility to function to the best of my ability, my king," Eric said smoothly, his voice and gaze steady. "I take my job very seriously. I would never insult you or your reign by giving less than a hundred percent."

Felipe nodded only slightly, barely acknowledging Eric's response. He addressed me again. "I understand you are keeping your position with the Weres?"

"Yes," I said. "I am very happy there. However, Eric knows my job is somewhat flexible, I would still be able to help you, if you needed."

"Telepaths are rare, Sookie." Not as much as you might think, I said to myself silently as I wondered what kind of mayhem Minnie and Pam were creating in the bar.

"I do have a need for your services next Friday evening. Just a small job, I'll pay handsomely."

My heart leapt in my throat. Octavia's wedding; Friday night was the rehearsal dinner. I couldn't let her down.

"I'm afraid I have an event." Felipe's eyes darkened. "I'll see what I can do," I finished hastily. Felipe looked to Eric, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"You will let me know as soon as possible," he said smoothly. "And I trust you are satisfied with our compensation from the Andromeda situation."

Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea here. "Yes," I answered carefully. "It was very generous."

"I am glad you are pleased. Your vampire worked very hard to secure it for you." My eyes flashed to Eric, who had the gall to grin at me. I had to take the money now. Sneaky bastard.

I realized that neither Sandy nor Victor had spoken the entire time. Eric walked me to the door. "I will speak with you later, my dove," he said in that ultra serious tone, his grin gone. He looked displeased. Again I felt foreboding. Felipe followed.

We walked to the table where Pam and Minnie were sitting. Minnie appeared to be finishing her second boilermaker while studying the hind regions of one of the male dancers.

"This is my great aunt Minnie Hale, King de Castro," I said. "Minnie, this is Felipe de Castro."

A strange look flickered across de Castro's face. Minnie smiled and held out her hand.

"Minnie Hale," the words rolled off Felipe's tongue slowly as he gazed at Minnie. "Do I know you from somewhere Meez Hale? Have you ever been to Las Vegas?"

"If I have it was way before your time, youngster," she cackled. Felipe smiled slightly.

Eric gave me a perfunctory buss to the cheek, then turned away to speak to Pam. I felt rejected somehow. I swallowed my dejection and grabbed Minnie's arm, smiled insincerely at de Castro one more time, and headed for the door. I could feel the king watching us as we left.

"What was that about?" I hissed when we got to the car. "Don't think you're not going to explain it."

Minnie rubbed her nose. "I'm sure I have no idea. He's probably confused. All old white women look alike."

"Minnie," I said, my voice rich with meaning, "this is important. Spill. Why does he think he knows you?"

She sighed. "Well, you know how I worked for the phone company for fifty years, and it has a union. We got four weeks paid holiday ever year. I didn't have any friends much outside of church, and all those women were married, buried in their domestic issues. I needed an outlet."

I started the car and nodded, waiting. She sighed again.

"When I was in the loony bin I used to play cards with the other patients. Poker was my game. I could read their minds, so I knew what they were holding. We'd play for pills, for candy, cigarettes. But after a while no one would play with me anymore, because I always won. Learned my lesson there."

The knot in my stomach grew a size or two bigger as I pulled into traffic.

"So I needed to get out of this Podunk town every now and again, you know? I wanted to cut loose, be a little wild, forget who I was and what and where I was from. In the fifties all everyone talked about was Las Vegas. So I saved up my money one summer and went.

"I was 35 years old the first year I went, but I was a knockout back in the day, a lot like you, Sookie, voluptuous, with a lot of sex appeal no one around here could see. I dyed my hair red and bought myself a new wardrobe. I had a good time, and I won. Black jack was the easiest, but poker worked too. I'd learned my lesson in the hospital, and I never won too much, just enough to finance my trip and buy me some evening clothes – back then, you had to dress up to play in the casinos, they didn't let slouches past the door. I moved from casino to casino, and I threw a game here and there so it wouldn't look suspicious."

Apparently a little alcohol put Minnie in the mood to talk. "So what happened?"

"I did this for about fifteen years, once a year, usually in the dead of winter around January or February. I'd head for my other life in the warm and sunny desert, always being careful, never taking too much. But security became heightened, you know, there were a lot of shysters back then and not much technology. After so many trips, people started to know me, but I was still careful, losing here and there; everything was fine. Then it happened.

"I'd been having an affair with a black jack dealer in this hoppin' new casino for the past few trips. I ended the affair and thought nothing of it; it was just for the sex, we only saw one another once a year, what was the point. I didn't tell him my little secret, of course, never played at his table. He was a good dealer but other than that mentally he was easy to block, simple type, didn't think about much besides boobs and sandwiches. He was bitter, though, about the breakup. Hell I was fifty-something years old at this point, I thought we'd be adults about it. No such luck.

"So I was playing black jack at this table one night right after I ended it and they changed dealers on me. My former lover took the other dealer's place. He started being a real smartass, insulting me, goading me in front of the other players. If I'd been smart, I would have taken my chips and left. But I'd been drinking, he got my goat, and I started playing to break to bank." She paused here and smiled slightly.

"And break it I did."

"The kitty didn't get so big back then, 50K, but I took it all within a couple of hours. Of course, such a winning streak garnered a lot of attention. As I headed back to my room a couple of goons stopped me at the staircase and took me in a little room just like you see in the movies.

"I met the casino owner there. He was pale and Hispanic, good-looking, and mad as hell. He yelled at me and threatened my life for about an hour. He didn't know how I did it, and he was about to blame my former lover for helping me to cheat. Hey, the guy was a jerk, but he didn't deserve that. So I confessed my little talent. I cried and pleaded. He finally let me go after I swore I'd help him read minds at the casino to find other people who were stealing from him, gamblers, employees, et cetera. Cash-based business, everyone had their hand in the till.

"He let me go back to my room and even said I could keep the 50k as a pre-payment for my services. Didn't know he was a vampire of course, but I knew I couldn't read his mind, and that little fact had me good and spooked. I waited until the goons were distracted and crawled out the window. I took a cab to the airport and left, never looked back. Changed planes four times and dyed my hair black in an airport ladies' room in Phoenix. I got off a plane in Memphis and hitchhiked the rest of the way home. It was the seventies, not so easy to trace people. He never found me, and I kept the money under my mattress."

The stomach knot now felt like a cannon ball. Shit. Shit shit shit. I tried to change lanes and swerved, nearly hitting another car.

"Breathe Sookie," Minnie said. "Get yourself together. I'm too old to die in a damn car wreck because you're losing it."

"Do you realize what you have just told me? I am involved with a prominent vampire, and therefore knee-deep in vampire-shit politics. I just find out that my great-aunt ripped off the casino of the Vampire King of Louisiana, the man to whom both my significant other and I have to defer; then broke the deal she made with him and ran out of town with his money; and you tell me there's nothing to worry about?" I was yelling and I didn't care.

"It was nearly forty years ago, Sookie," she snorted, waving her hand dismissively.

"You're not dumb, Minnie, don't try to play it with me. Forty years is a long time for you and me; for a vampire, not so much. He appeared to recognize your name." I wondered if there was a plastic bag in the car into which I could vomit if the need arose.

She leaned over and patted my hand. "Relax. I don't even think it was the same guy. Couldn't have been. The casino owner who yelled at me all those years ago was over the top, very flamboyant.

"He was wearing a cape, a full length black cape, like the Phantom of the Opera. If he hadn't been so scary, I would have sworn he was either gay or a complete putz."

*******************

_**I'd love to hear from you, of course. We made it over 100,000 hits this week - yahoo! I don't know if that's significant, but it sounds impressive. I think what it means is that people like to go back and read parts of this story over again, and that makes me happy, because it means that the story (or at least some part of it) makes other people happy. Sob. I'll shut up now. Diet update on profile tomorrow night – Misscyn **_


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N Yes, it's been a long time since I've posted two chapters in a week, but I'm feeling very nervous and tense in my personal life and writing is how I'm working out my anxiety. Perhaps as a result of my mental state (at least in part) this chapter is a little angsty, but it's short - so at least I'm not dragging out the pain (insert evil laugh here). My beta Wanda W. is a goddess, I worship at your feet, dear lady. Take care, misscyn **

**Chapter 36**

Bloody hell.

I pulled off the road and came to a screeching halt, gravel flying everywhere. Minnie clawed the dashboard, shrieking.

"I'm going to be sick," I managed to get out, before I lurched out of the car and made my way around to the back. My right heel turned off my slide and hit the gravel, hurting. I cursed and leaned my head against the cold metal of the trunk and tried to breathe. What had happened? Eric was acting all weird, sending me mixed messages, calling me 'my dove' one minute and telling me 'we need to talk' in that break-up voice the next. I couldn't stop thinking how the look on his face was exactly the same as Bill's expression that horrible night he told me he was going to Seattle.

And now the king's already pissed, and then Minnie drops this bomb on me. I continued to breathe and my stomach settled somewhat, but only a little. Minnie rolled down her window and leaned out to look back at me.

"What's your problem?" she yelled. "I need to get home sometime tonight!"

Wearily I stood and walked around to the driver side. Maybe I could avoid getting sick if that old bat didn't push me too far.

"Felipe wears a cape sometimes, Minnie," I said as I plopped down in the driver's seat. "He was wearing one the first time I met him."

"Oh," she said after a moment. "That's not good."

I pulled out on the road. "No it's not, Minnie. It definitely is not."

She scrunched up her face. "Well, it still might not be him," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh really, Minnie?" Instead of slamming on the brakes I pressed harder on the gas and the car shot forward as I turned to look at her. "Just exactly how many cape-wearing Hispanic vampires own casinos in Las Vegas, in your opinion?"

"You don't have to be a smart aleck," she groused. "And you don't have to raise your voice. I can hear just fine."

I ignored her. We rode in silence while I tried to regroup. I could feel her regarding me sideways.

"Don't tell me you never considered it," she said. "You're a bright girl. Didn't it even occur to you that you could make some money at cards?"

"Sure it occurred to me, Minnie, when I was younger," I said truthfully. "But, you know, once I realized how it was a _felony_ and everything, I decided maybe it wasn't such a hot idea."

Minnie crossed her arms again. "Such a goody-two-shoes," she mumbled.

I studied Minnie then, looked really hard, trying to mesh what I knew of her with what she had just told me. When you got past the obligatory curly gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses, her face really wasn't that wrinkled. It was obvious she was elderly, of course, but she could pass for a woman in her sixties even. Her posture was quite remarkable, not hunched over at all. She had green eyes, pretty clear and bright, high cheekbones and full lips, again, for a woman her age. My eyes traveled down. When you got past the matching Alfred Dunner twinset and polyester pants, her figure was pretty good too. I gazed at her new pedicure; the 'Aphrodite's Pink Nightie' shade of polish looking definitely out of place in those Clark's sandals.

"What are you, Minnie?" I asked narrowly.

"What's that supposed to mean? Quit staring at me and pay attention to the road," she huffed.

"You sure are in good shape for a woman your age," I observed, suspicion heavy in my tone. "Sure you don't have a little supernatural somethin'-somethin' going on?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said airily. "You're the one with the freakish bloodline, not me." I tried to get in her head but it was like slamming up against a heavy metal door. She smirked and gave me a knowing look. Old lady sure knew how to shield. I sighed and let the subject drop for now, figuring it would get me nowhere to pursue it at this time anyway.

"What was going on back there, anyway?" she asked after a few minutes. "I picked up on a good deal of tension when you all left the office."

"The king's mad," I said shortly. "And seeing you and being reminded of how you ripped him off all those years ago couldn't have helped his foul mood."

"What's he mad about?"

I wanted to tell her it was none of her business again but somehow all the fight seeped out of me. "He went out of town and left Eric to take care of a big problem, and apparently he did it too well, and now he feels like Eric showed him up and he's all out of sorts."

"Ah," she said thoughtfully. "Eric pulled a Clara Edwards."

"Beg pardon?"

"Andy Griffith. Aunt Bee went out of town and Andy and Opie trash the house, clean it up, then trash it again when they realize it's too clean and Aunt Bee won't appreciate it. Then Clara Edwards comes by, sees the mess, and cleans it up spotless. When Aunt Bee comes home she gets upset because the house is perfect and she feels like they don't really need her. Andy and Opie know what's going on so they set about trashing it again. Opie puts a peanut butter sandwich under his pillow, Bee finds it, and all is well."

"Mmm." I seemed to remember that episode. What can I say, I grew up without HBO or Cinemax. All Gran wanted to watch was TV Land. Sometimes when I was real young she'd even make me watch old episodes of Lawrence Welk on Saturday nights. Up until I got involved with vampires, those shows were some of the scariest things I had ever seen.

"So," I said after musing a bit, "Eric needs to hide a proverbial peanut butter sandwich where Felipe can find it."

"Yep. That ought to fix things."

"Well, he's a big guy, I'm sure he'll figure that out," I said. "Now I'm going to have to explain about you, and that concerns me more at this point in time. I can honestly say I have no idea how he'll react. I know for a fact, however, that he won't be happy about it. And of course, we have no idea what the king's going to do."

She waved her hand again. "Well, what can he do? Is he going to kill an old lady? I'll just pretend I'm senile."

"What happened to the money, Minnie?"

"It's still under my bed. Once I stopped traveling to Vegas I didn't have anything to spend it on. And I had to stop gambling. The only gambling you can do around here is bingo, and telepathy doesn't help you in bingo." She leaned her head back and stared wistfully out the window. "I didn't even need to cheat all the time either. I won when I played fair, too. I miss gambling."

"You may need to give the money back, Minnie."

"I most certainly will not!" she glared. "I jumped out of a window carrying that money in a suitcase. I had to leave three evening gowns behind just to make room for it, and then I carted it halfway across the country. It's mine."

I didn't pursue this subject any further, either. I just wanted to get home, take some Advil with a big glass of wine and pass out. Tomorrow would be another day.

So that's exactly what I did. I dropped Minnie off at her house; went home, got a bath and a glass of Pinot Noir and tried to go to sleep, but sleep eluded me. I lay in bed and went through the events of the day again and again. Eric's strange actions, my great-aunt's confessions, and the king's apparent unrest swirled over and around in my head.

When I shut my eyes the mental images Minnie projected to me popped up across the back of my eyelids like a tiny projection television shining on a sheet in the back yard. I saw death and mayhem, heard a woman screaming, a bell tolling in the distance. The entire scene enveloped in whirling darkness, then blinding light. I heard an oddly familiar sound of water running and fire crackling, the rush of panicked footsteps in the night. The images reeked of an innate evil, something undefined, but the horror reached out to me and made my heart stop, my breath catch in my throat until it hurt. I knew it all had something to do with me, that it had some significance in my own life, which didn't help me to relax. I slept fitfully for a few hours and then woke in various stages of anxiety.

Mostly I worried about Eric, of course, and what it was he thought we so seriously needed to discuss. It occurred to me, quite belatedly, what an expression of faithfulness he had made at Fangtasia, by inviting me at 'dinnertime' and waiting for my arrival. I, in turn, acted badly, shooting from the hip much like I had so much earlier in our relationship. My face turned red with shame in the darkness.

I wondered if he was second-guessing our new closeness, if maybe he'd decided it was too much. Our feelings for one another had certainly reached new depths in the last few weeks, and maybe he was uncomfortable with all that. Perhaps once he'd thought about it, he didn't appreciate what I'd done for him in the garden, even though he seemed to at the time. When a being gets that old, is it too painful to remember their childhood? Would it not be best to let such memories, such emotion alone? I flipped back and forth fretfully in the dark, re-examining every move I'd made in the last few weeks. Something told me, though, that it wasn't our new level of intimacy that was causing Eric's change in actions. It most likely had something to do with that freaking Felipe.

That started me to thinking about Minnie and my blood got hot again, but in a different way. Boy, she could talk all night about her card-cheating crimes, but still wouldn't tell me what I needed to know about my heritage to save her own life. Old biddy needed to come clean, and fast.

At this point I set about to hosting a full-fledged pity party, yours truly the sole guest. I didn't know what was going on, and I missed my vampire dreadfully. I had a few precious moments with him this evening, and I'd squandered them thoughtlessly. Remorse tasted bitter in my mouth. I imagine him to be lying here beside me, bare-chested, talking and laughing like we always do. I wanted to look into his eyes and run my hands all over his body, his massive, magnificent body, starting at the top of his head, down his huge arms, over that sculpted abdomen, down his powerful legs, feel the smooth marble of his skin, the silky golden hairs spring back under my fingers. I wanted to caress his back, from shoulders to the back of his calves, and everything in between, wanted to hold his face in my hands while he whispered sweet profanities across the pillow, wanted to feel the curve of his lips as he teased me and I blushed from his words. I flushed, right then, as I realized he might feel my lust through the bond, but when I felt for it I found he'd shut down again. I tried again and then jumped when it gave a warning spark, a snap of irritation. I recoiled, rejected. What was that? I suddenly remembered a trip to the beach as a small child, when I'd found a jellyfish washed up on the sand. It was mesmerizing, translucent and foreign; I wanted to play with it badly, and probed it until it stung me. I ran crying to my mother, so distraught she could barely soothe me. This felt much, much worse.

A few seconds later, I felt a surge of comfort, tinged with a little sadness from his end. I batted it back childishly and then almost instantly regretted it. I shut down my side reluctantly, unable to trust my own instincts or reactions. I'm a basket case, I told myself. He is destroying me here.

Naturally I wanted to call him, but I knew he couldn't be disturbed, and I surely felt a little gun-shy after the bond rejection. Right before dawn I sent him a small text:

_I don't understand what is happening, but in regards to our earlier conversation I want to tell you that I am prouder of you than you will ever know. And for the record, no matter what I may have thought I felt previously, I regret nothing. Nothing at all. _

_PS Wish you were here. _

_Sookie_

I never got an answer, and eventually fell asleep with the silent phone clutched in my hand.

***********

_**We're still headed for the finish line folks, there's just an extra curve or two in the road now. It's necessary to accomplish everything I think I need to – and I also feel it necessary for maximum satisfaction, from my point of view, and from yours (sounds like a condom ad here, doesn't it?)**_

_**If you have a sec let me know your thoughts and opinions - they truly do matter**__** - misscyn**_


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N Thank you all so much for your encouragement and kind words. I am still greatly stressed but still writing so some good (hopefully) is coming out of it. It warms my heart to see how many folks continue to follow this story - and new readers coming on board all the time, according to the story alert messages I get nearly every day. Thank you to my beta Wanda W., you are the lighthouse at the end of a long journey. Take care misscyn **

**Chapter 37**

The debacle with Minnie meeting the king and consequently confessing her sins to me went down on Thursday night. I didn't hear from Eric or Pam Friday night or Saturday. I broke down and called Fangtasia Sunday night around 11 pm, but a new waitress I don't know yet answered the phone, and told me Pam and Eric were in a meeting and could not be disturbed. She didn't realize who I was, and I didn't leave a message.

Eric and I hadn't gone this long without talking since we'd been officially together. That particular fact, coupled with the way things had gone Thursday night, kept me torn up all weekend. I woke up Monday morning about 4 am with that bad feeling no one ever wants. You know that feeling, when you lie in bed for a few minutes feeling okay and then just exactly how bad your life sucks gradually dawns on you, and you realize the thing which torments you is not a dream. Worst thing about it was I had no idea what to do; no one was talking to me, and I had no game.

I somehow showered, got dressed and slumped to work. I bent my head over my desk and worked furiously, trying to keep the unsettling thoughts at bay. It didn't work for long, and every twenty or thirty minutes or so I'd catch myself looking out the window, wondering, ruminating, remembering…..

Mid-morning the phone rang. Octavia's nearly hysterical crying shook me out of my reverie.

"The bridal shop just called and my gown is on back order," she said. "The wedding is Saturday and I have nothing to wear. And the singer I found emailed me that she has to attend a funeral on Saturday. Someone in her family had the nerve to die the week of my wedding!"

I almost chuckled before I caught myself. Never laugh at an over-worked bride. I felt instantly guilty; I was supposed to be helping Octavia, not wallowing in my own misery. "I'll go see Madelyn at lunch," I promised. "I'm leaving in just a few minutes. You go ahead and leave Bon Temps and I'll wait for you at her shop."

She settled down a little. I called Madelyn and gave her Octavia's measurements; she said she thought she might have just the thing. I worked for a little more and then headed over to her shop. I'd really neglected Octavia, and the wedding was now bearing down on us like a freight train. Maybe I could concentrate on it and try to forget all the Supe crap for a little while at least.

Whimsical Traditions' warm and friendly atmosphere immediately cheered me a bit. Madelyn met me at the door and grabbed my hand. "I just got a new group of dresses in, I know there's something here that she will love," she said.

She pulled me over to the counter, where she'd hung a dress on a mannequin. The stunning gold and burgundy gown literally took my breath away.

"It's a Mary McFadden," Madelyn said with a smile. "Look at the handiwork, all the beads and sequins. The top's a bit heavy, but it's sleeveless, so it won't be too hot for a summer evening wedding."

The dress zipped in the back, and had a very sheer silk chiffon skirt in the same burgundy and gold print. Madelyn produced a gold chiffon shawl and draped it around the mannequin's shoulders. Perfect.

"Oh, she'll love it, I'm sure, Madelyn," I said, just as Octavia burst through the door, breathless and more than a little flustered. I could tell she'd dressed in a hurry, in black yoga pants and a simple orange tee, her face devoid of makeup and her hair pulled back in a multi-colored scarf.

"Is that it?" she nodded toward the mannequin. She walked around it, touching the skirt. Octavia looked like a bomb about to go off. Madelyn and I watched, both afraid to say anything.

"What size is it?" she asked, fiddling with the hem. A slight frown creased her brow.

"It's a 10/12," Madelyn said.

"Let me try it on," Octavia said hesitantly; we pulled it off the mannequin and she went to the back. She came out slowly a few minutes later. The open neckline set off her long neck, the golds complemented her caramel skin and the burgundy brought out the same color blush in her cheeks. The gown hugged her in all the right places, and showed a good bit of leg at the bottom. Octavia's legs are very nice, slim and cut, one of her best features.

"It's gorgeous, Octavia," I said. She twirled in front of the mirror, started to smile and then collapsed in a chair crying.

Madelyn rushed over. "I have other gowns, Octavia," she said. "Here, let me show you what I have…"

"No, no no, it's perfect." Octavia sniffed. "It's just perfect. I love it. I'm just so happy we found something."

"I'm sorry about the other dress," I said to Octavia. She waved me away, "No, I like this one so much more, I picked the other out in a hurry Saturday when I hadn't found anything yet. Really, it's fine. I was just so scared we weren't going to find anything.

"It couldn't be any better, actually. Ruby's my birthstone, and I have beautiful gold and ruby jewelry I never get to wear, gifts from my mother. I want a Renaissance feel and it will work with that. And I did want to use deep red roses, which will go perfectly. It's wonderful, thank you both so much." She smiled and I could feel her becoming more tranquil. She hugged me quickly and gave me a peck on the cheek.

"I have a million things to do, Sookie, I have to run," Octavia said. She paid for the dress and left with it, looking much happier to my relief.

"So what's going on in your life, hmm?" Madelyn asked with a smile. She sat down in one of the overstuffed red toile chairs by the dressing room and pointed to the other seat.

I briefly described the situation now with Minnie and Eric. Madelyn rocked back and forth in her seat with laughter at Minnie's tale. "I cannot wait to spend some time with that lady," she whooped.

When I got to the part about Eric and me, she sobered and patted my hand in a comforting manner.

"Whatever's going on with him will come out in time," she said. "It's most likely something to do with his work and not your relationship. Men are like that, you know, unable to separate one from the other."

"But he should separate them, he should know better than that, as old as he is," I said. "I think he's getting ready to call it quits."

Her eyes widened and she gave a snort. "Nah. I doubt it. You two have been through too much for him to just end it overnight like that, don't you think?" I shrugged under her intense gaze.

"People make the same mistakes over and over. The nursing homes would be stuffed full of Nobel Prize winners and rocket scientists if age were all one needed to be wise. And don't think because he's been around the block a time or two means that he's any smarter in affairs of the heart.

"All the experience and wisdom vampires should have with their immortality, and what would most of them say if you asked them their opinion on love? 'Avoid it whatever the costs,' that's what the vast majority would tell you. They're not really any better at it than we are," she said. "Give it a little time, don't do anything too rash, okay?" I nodded and smiled. She always made me feel better, no matter what I was going through.

"Is he going to be at the wedding?" Madelyn asked.

"He's supposed to be," I said.

She stood up. 'Now, let me show you what I found for you," she said.

She went to the back and brought out a deep royal blue silk gown with intricate beading and rhinestones on the front, fitted waist, full skirt and shelf bust. The cups were boned and the dress was fully lined. Yet another gown that I wouldn't be able to wear anything under, I thought to myself. I tried it on and couldn't believe my luck. It was perfect, beautiful but not too showy; I certainly didn't want to look like I was trying to upstage the bride.

I took the dress and hugged Madelyn. I went back to work feeling decidedly better. I wondered what kind of shoes would go with the dress - I was thinking something strappy with a high heel. I found a pair of dark blue satin high-heeled sandals online and ordered them next-day air.

As far as Eric and I were concerned, there was really nothing I could do but wait; I had messaged him and attempted to call. I just needed to go about my own life and let him come to me, I decided.

I went back to my desk and got to work. About three o'clock Alcide poked his head in the door.

"Hey, Sookie, I need a big favor," he said, giving me that award-winning smile. Uh-oh, something's up.

"I need to go to New Orleans tomorrow, and I just don't have time," he said. "I have meetings and work in the field; but we've got a post Katrina job to do over there, and the permit office is real hard to deal with anymore, after all the fraud. They want someone from the company to sign for the permit, in person, and show ID. Lance nor I either one have time to do it, and everyone else is tied up." He looked at me hopefully. "It's a five-hour drive, so you'd want to stay the night. "

"All right," I said quickly. A little trip might cheer me up. I could probably do some shopping for Octavia while I'm there. She and Amelia were collecting antique Battenburg lace tablecloths and dying them all kinds of crazy jewel-tone colors for the reception. I could scour the consignment shops for some of those.

"Really?" Alcide's eyes lit up. "That's great, Sookie. I'll have my secretary make you a reservation at a vampire-friendly hotel, in case you…..have company." He winked.

I didn't have the energy to tell Alcide that wouldn't be necessary, so I just nodded. Another thought occurred to me - if I'm already in New Orleans, I could run over to Carville and see Catherine. We were still short a wedding singer.

"It's your day to work from home…" Alcide said hesitantly.

"No, that's fine, I'll do it. It's no problem."

Just then Lance stuck his head in the door.

"Hey, Sookie, you gonna take care of that permit thing for us?" he smiled. Alcide walked back to his office. I nodded.

"That's great," he said. "Oh, I went by Fangtasia to have a drink with Pam last night, and Eric stopped by the table and asked me to tell you he said hello."

My face blanched. I felt all the blood rush out of the center my body to my fingertips and toes and then rush back in. I sat dumbstruck. My skin started to itch and then felt like it was breaking out in hives.

He told Lance to tell me he said 'hello'? Is this the way he's going to let me know I've been dumped? Have a co-worker give me some blasé inane pleasantry? I shook my head wordlessly. Lance appeared confused, standing at the door, waiting for my response.

My mind started going a mile a minute. So he's at work, and at least Pam has time to entertain, so I can assume the situation can't be all that critical with Felipe, and that he could have called me. A tide of hurt welled up inside me, only to be stopped by a stone-cold wall of fury. That jackass, that bloodsucking bastard. I will stake him myself; better yet I will castrate him in his daytime stupor with a rusty butter knife if that's all I can find...

"Well, if you see him tell him I am fine, and I hope he is also doing well," I said in my most controlled voice. Lance started to say something, thought better of it, then gave me a rueful grin and walked out the door.

Okay. Now I'm pissed. My internal monologue got hotter and hotter. Were we not beyond this? Can vampires be bi-polar? Octavia's getting married at my house on Saturday and I have a butt-load of work to do. If Eric wants to play vampire games, he can go play them with his damn self. I'm sick of being jerked around like a puppet on a string. I am my own woman. I will live my own life, make my own decisions. I have made concessions as the bonded of my vampire, concessions that haven't set too easily with me at times. But if I am alone, then I answer to no one, and I certainly don't answer to a man who doesn't even have the decency to break up with me properly.

One thing I know, and this I know for sure: Eric's got approximately 24 hours to contact me, or I'm going to Carville alone, come hell or high water.

The after-work ride to Bon Temps did not take long enough. I liked having something to do, liked operating on auto-pilot, something that left my mind free to roam a bit. I wanted to stay angry, to pump up my indignation, to do anything but miss him. I wanted to wallow in the hate, not drown in the hurt.

What I especially did not want to dwell on was the most recent memory, of me lying in 'my spot' – to the left side of his body, spooning his side with my head tucked in his chest and my leg thrown over his, while he toyed with my hair. How I knew how he loved for me to go to sleep like that, because even though he lay awake for several hours more, it comforted him to hear my breathing and feel my heart beat, how the warmth of my body transferred to the coolness of his, and that when we could he liked to lay that way first for a while, so that when we coupled, the warmth and breath and pulse I shared with him when we joined made him feel alive, too.

What I really, really did not want to think about was how I knew at those times together that we transcended our physical selves, that we were more than human and vampire at that point. How all of it was somehow beyond sex, beyond feeding, beyond blood. How when we lay like that I became the vessel to his fountain; how he poured love and tenderness down into my soul; how I swirled it around the basin of my being, and then sent it right back up.

How none of this is ever spoken; how none of it ever needed to be.

I went out to the garden to work and try to soothe myself. With my hands buried up to the wrists in the dark, cool dirt, I did find a little relief, but not much. The garden reminded me of Eric, and I supposed it always would. I sighed as my emotions ricocheted back and forth. I did not want to be one of little faith when it came to my Viking. I also did not want to play the fool.

I needed to talk to Eric about Minnie, but if he's going to act this way, then screw him, he could just find out on his own, I told myself darkly. Something about Minnie had been niggling the back of my brain since Thursday night, something that did not add up. I worked in the garden and tried to sort through it in my head. Minnie had always looked good for her age, but she was looking better Thursday night than she had at the Pure Cupid party. And she didn't always stand up that straight; her posture had improved, I was sure of it.

I dusted the dirt off my hands and knees and walked back into the house. I found myself standing in front of the bookshelf in the living room, looking for something. After a few seconds I found it, the family photo album, thick with faded papers and pictures. I went back through the photos for a few pages and then stopped at the one for which I had unknowingly been searching. Christmas 1986. My mom must have taken the photo, because there we were, Dad, Gran, Jason and me on the sofa. I smiled at Dad's depiction. He looked so much more carefree than I remembered, so relaxed. At five years old I still wore pink plastic barrettes in my hair, and my Barbie footie pj's looked downright cozy. Jason was all snaggle-toothed, and appeared to be holding a brand new BB gun.

And there, in the old orange flowered armchair to the right, sat Minnie, looking a good ten years older than she had Thursday night. I sat down on the sofa and stared, unwilling to accept what was right in front of me. How could it be? That photo was taken more than twenty years ago.

It appears that my dear Aunt Minnie has even more secrets to share than I'd thought.

********

**_As always, I'd love to hear from you. This is a transition chapter, I have much to accomplish in a short period of time, so shorter, more frequent chapters are what's working for me right now. Don't worry, all will be revealed in good time.....misscyn_**

**_PS link to Sookie's dress is on my profile. I had a link to Octavia's dress, but apparently the dress was sold and they took down the photo. _****_I would say my diet news is updated, but the only news is, I suck at dieting :)_**


	38. Chapter 38 Preview Only Don't Kill Me

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Please don't kill me! Chapter 38 is in the works, folks, but it's a trying one for me, there's some action, you know how that slows me down! It may be next week before it's up! But I'm so pumped, 'cause Sookie's going to New Orleans, y'all! In the meantime, check out my profile for some links for upcoming chapters. I was going to put them here, but I forgot how ff won't let you post links in text, for what reason I don't know. Anyway, just go to my profile if you'd like to see the links.

In better news, I'm having a great time avoiding some sucky reality by working on this stuff. I got so excited that I wanted you to see these places before I published the chapter, I hope that's not too selfish of me. When the mass email of this story alert goes out to nearly five hundred people twice, I may get a bunch of hateful reviews and/or pm's. I am truly, truly sorry, I kinda screwed this up. Once I realized my original mistake, I had to send out the second one, to tell everyone what happened. My bad. *hangs head*

But there are some great links there, like to the Hotel Monteleone, where Sookie will stay. This hotel is great! Tennessee Williams, William Faulkner and Truman Capote liked to hang there! And it's haunted! There's also a link to Gambino's, a wonderful bakery in the French Quarter. And a surprise link I think you will enjoy. Again, so sorry for the confusion, I will work extra hard on that chapter, just to make it up to you! Take care, misscyn


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N Yes, this is a real chapter this time! It's also a working chapter, lots of stuff to accomplish here. You all are so wonderful, I really have the best readers ever, not one person complained about my little tease/goof-up last week (although I'm sure plenty of folks were grumbling in their heads, I know I would be). You know you've got great peeps reading your story when a non-chapter generates nothing but support, I do appreciate you all! I am blessed, and thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart. And a great big thank you to Wanda W. for being the world's greatest beta and casserole baker extraordinaire! Take care, Misscyn **

**Chapter 39**

I left the house at 7:00 am the next day. Five hours is a long time on the road. Driving across the state of Louisiana, across miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles, put me in a meditative 'big picture' mental state, one that I desperately needed. I briefly thought about the last time I traveled to New Orleans – with Bill in the back of that limo, and Mr. Cataliades. I shook off that memory. I am not that same little girl anymore, I told myself. I won't let that bad experience ruin this trip.

I faced a hard decision, but one I made while on the road. If de Castro needed me for an event Friday night, I would have to agree to it, even if it did upset Octavia that I would miss her rehearsal dinner. I would work my butt off the rest of this week, and all day on Saturday for her and try to make it up the best I could. But even if Eric was avoiding me, I couldn't let him down when it came to the king, couldn't make him look bad or hurt him like that.

I'd given my word back when I took the job with the Pack that I would help the vampires if they needed me, and I am nothing if not true to my word. I called Pam's cell and left a message that I would be available to the king Friday night. I hoped my gesture would not be perceived by Eric as some type of pathetic sucking up because he'd been ignoring me, but, nevertheless, it was the right thing to do. Now I just had to break it to Octavia. It would be hard, but it had to be done.

I'd kept the bond shut off since Thursday night when Eric snapped at me through it. Nightfall was the worst, when I knew he was rising, knew he'd be up and about, and I couldn't do anything about it, not with the way things were going. I refused to open the bond back up all over the weekend, even though I wanted to badly at night. During the day I felt a little easier, knowing he was resting and I couldn't talk to him even if I wanted to - which I did not, I told myself firmly.

It occurred to me about halfway to New Orleans that asking Catherine to sing at Octavia and Wizno's wedding was a completely crazy idea, but one that had nevertheless gotten stuck in my head. The woman spent her entire adult life sequestered in a leper colony, and I think I can talk her into singing in front of a hundred or so people? Something told me I had to ask, though, some instinct. Really, I just wanted to see Catherine again, make sure she was safe. I felt an emotional attachment to her, an investment from the few short minutes that we spent together. I guess I'd always been ostracized, the stray dog, the outsider, and I felt a kinship with her because of that.

On my way into town I stopped by Tulane to get a new course schedule and just look around the campus. I walked around in awe of all the Romanesque, Elizabethan and Italian Renaissance architecture, and stopped by the campus bookstore to pick up the new textbooks for my online fall courses. I enjoyed touring around the campus, even though I wouldn't be attending classes there, it was nice to see the school and realize that in some small way I was a part of it.

Afterwards I went on into downtown to get Alcide's permit. It was a pretty simple process, but New Orleans isn't that easy to drive around in, I got lost a couple of times. Finally I used the GPS on my cell phone to find the way.

I headed for my hotel after finishing up at the permit office. Alcide's secretary booked me a room at the Hotel Monteleone in the French Quarter. The hotel looked like an old French chateau, very elegant and impressive. I got settled into my gorgeous suite, complete with light-tight blinds on the French doors and full-length windows (I really needed to thank Alcide). It had a very fancy marble bathroom, complete with a separate shower and Jacuzzi and a bidet. After playing around a bit in the suite I set off and walked around the French Quarter.

I needed to get some lunch so after asking the concierge for a recommendation I headed for Ralph & Kacoo's on Toulouse Street, right off of Decatur. (Yes, really, I just wanted to eat on 'Toulouse Street'). I ordered the crawfish bisque with a side of blackened gator and fried pickles. The gator tasted like chicken, just like at Merlotte's. I loved the pickles best of all, but enjoyed the bisque also. After lunch I took off on foot again, hunting for something sweet.

Right off the bat I found a bakery I'd always wanted to visit, Gambino's, and ordered a couple of the famous petit fours. The tiny cakes were rich and creamy and decadent; I scarfed them down quickly. The shop had that bakery smell, intoxicating. I realized I really needed to bring Catherine some kind of a gift and on impulse bought a caramel Doberge cake. It cost nearly 70 dollars, a big splurge for me, but I figured she deserved something nice. I felt a little flush from a generous meal allowance for the trip, and resolved to skip dinner to make up for the expense of the cake. Besides, she'll probably offer me a slice, I told myself as I stood at the glass case salivating.

I walked back to the hotel and got in my car, careful with the white bakery box. I felt extremely proud of my calorie-laden bribe. Growing up we never bought cakes, they were always homemade. I found it exciting to go to a real bakery, and even more so to plunk down way too much money for a gorgeous hunk of flour, sugar and shortening.

That cake wouldn't keep so I drove on over to Carville with trepidation, recalling Eric's words about it not being completely safe. When I pulled up I gave a sigh of relief. The main building looked completely normal. The magnolias were blooming, birds were singing, and it seemed perfectly harmless.

I parked the car, grabbed the cake by the bakery strings tied around it, and started walking around back. The outbuildings all looked the same, but an eerie feeling soon overtook me. I went the main structure, ew, déjà vue again, but it looked all cleared out, no leech tanks, no freezers or incubators. I shuddered as I remembered what all had gone on in there.

Catherine told me she lived in one of the buildings farther out. I drudged through the wet grasses and started going through the buildings, some little more than shacks, one by one. Surprisingly none of them were locked until I came to the last one, way back in a swampy corner of the field. The windows were locked also and blacked over with dark paper. I did a scan of the building and got a funny brain signature, obviously a Supe, and obviously in pain. I knocked on the window closest to where I could feel the presence.

"Help me," a tortured male whisper reached my ears. "Help me please."

Oh shit, there went all my hopes for a nice, easy day. I heard another moan and bit my lip. Breaking and entering was not my thing, but someone was being mistreated inside this building, clearly in distress.

"Who are you?" I tried to peak under the corner of the black paper but could see nothing,

"Sookie?" The somewhat robotic voice sounded familiar, but not in a good way.

"Sookie, it's John."

"The Andromeda?" He made a strangled sound in agreement.

What was he even doing on this planet? He was supposed to be back wherever the hell he came from. "What are you doing in there?"

"They're draining me, Sookie." He spoke with a slight lisp I didn't recall him having before.

"Who's 'they'?"

"They're taking my blood. Come inside," he said. "I need help."

I hesitated and he growled. I shivered, remembering that growl, those teeth against my skin. "You owe me," he ground out. "This was not the agreement I made with your Viking. I'm supposed to have immunity."

Well, I supposed he was right about that. I walked around front and broke the window next to the door with a rock, then reached in and unlocked it. Feeling slightly silly, I carried the Doberge cake inside – couldn't leave it out in the sun, after all.

I walked through an empty front room to the back, slowly, in case it was some kind of trap. When I opened the door to the second room I saw John and gasped in spite of myself. Boxes and boxes of Coke concentrate and carbonated water surrounded his chair and were attached to him with plastic tubes. The tubes were intertwined with silver chains and wrapped all around him. The soda was flowing through the tubes, and I could see tiny holes poked in the plastic and the soda seeping out onto his skin.

"I can't move," he said. I did a double-take and looked at his mouth. All of his teeth had been pulled. "I'm too weak from all the burns. If I try to get up it tears the tubing and I get burned worse."

"How are you still alive? This must have been going on for days." His matted blond hair stuck to his scalp, his blue eyes were blood-red and his dark-colored shirt and pants were filthy, all sticky and stiff from the soda torture.

"They've been feeding me a little," he admitted. "Just pouring a few drops down my throat ever hour or so to keep me alive."

"Who's doing this to you?"

"That fairy and the leper," he said. "Please help me."

"I'm not sure," I hesitated. His skin was covered with angry red welts and scabs. He'd been treated terribly. The smell alone nearly knocked me down. I didn't know what to do, it was the middle of the day and the vampires were all asleep. I wanted to call Fintan or Niall, but didn't know whose side they were on for sure.

"Which fairy?" I asked.

"The guard from your cabin," he said. "Rex."

I nodded. "And Catherine is doing this to you?" I couldn't believe she would be so cruel.

"Yes, I told you," his composure was slipping, he sounded in pain, and desperate. I turned toward the door. Desperate, John lunged forward, crying out as the soda burned him some more. He grabbed my shirt and pulled. I jerked away but slipped on a patch of Coke on the floor and fell against him. Quick as a flash, he grabbed my arm, stuck it under the plastic tubing and chains to hold it off him, and wiggled his arms out. I screamed and fought. He grabbed my arm brutally, nearly breaking it. We fell and rolled around on the floor. Somehow I managed to grab some of the tubing; I squirted the Coke in his eyes; he screamed and punched me.

"I don't want to harm you, human; I just want to get away," he hissed as I continued to squirt him. He made a grab for my now sore arm again, and I dropped the tubing.

He headed for the door, legs still shackled, and then unexpectedly John swung around. "On second thought, your Viking has destroyed me; I'd like to kill you just to pay him back." He grabbed my neck. I could tell he was weakened, but now regaining strength. The welts were already healing a little. His grip tightened on my neck; I thought belatedly about how stupid it had been to come here alone. I tried to thrash about, but it was no good; he would beat me, was beating me already.

Just then I heard a noise and looked up to see that beautiful caramel Doberge cake as it came crashing down on John's head. He fell to the ground, apparently in shock from the onslaught of flour. Catherine stood over us, or at least someone with Catherine's hair and stature, that is. Quickly she scooped up a handful of cake and shoved it into his toothless cave of a mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp.

"Death by pastry," Catherine proclaimed grimly. She held out her hand to me. 'Why did you let him go?"

I ignored her. "Catherine?" I asked. This woman had Catherine's voice, but her appearance had been altered dramatically. Her eyes were the same, but her skin – I looked again closely. As ridiculous as it might seem to say, Catherine didn't have leprosy anymore. No shit. She had a few scars that just looked like acne scars, but the bulbous appearance was gone. Her nose had returned to normal. Before me she stood, with skin better than average, firm, peachy and youthful in appearance.

'What's going on here?" I asked. "What have you done to John? What's going on with your face? And what's Rex got to do with it?"

She looked a little abashed. "Help me chain him back up," she said, "in case he's not really dead. Then we'll talk."

I helped her silently. When we got him all tied up I looked at her expectantly. She took a deep breath and began.

"After the takeover Rex approached me with the plan to kidnap John before he left the planet. Once he was done with negotiations with your Viking, Rex captured him. Rex works with the pharmaceutical interests of your great-grandfather," she looked at me inquiringly here.

I nodded, remembering Rex telling me that. "He and a few of his associates wanted to see about using Andromeda blood for skin damage and anti –aging treatments, maybe even cloning the blood for various uses. I was a guinea pig. They didn't know the side effects, needed someone who wanted it desperately enough to risk the potentially detrimental fall-out from the blood."

"What about curative powers?" I asked curiously. "For serious diseases and such?"

"They wanted to look into that eventually, but didn't have enough blood for that type of healing," she said. "All they had was John and what could safely be taken from him. Eventually they planned to go that way, if the cloning worked.

"Also, Rex said the skin serums would be safer, as they are applied topically. So I stopped taking the sugar cubes and started using the cream. The results were much more effective."

"So you've been holding John here, to drain him?" I said distastefully.

"We only take a couple of vials a day, and we've been feeding him blood bank blood through a straw," she said. "If he didn't move, he didn't get burned."

"It's inhumane," I said.

"Yes, and he's inhumane," she retorted. "You know what he was prepared to do to our world? Is it so wrong that we used his blood for something good?"

Gran taught the only ethics course I'd ever taken, and I was pretty sure I knew what she would have to say about that. I decided to let the argument go, for now. Catherine's skewed logic could be examined more closely at another time.

"Where is Rex?"

"He had to go to the Fae realm for business meetings," she said. "He's not supposed to be back before dark."

"Is Niall involved?"

"I don't think so. As far as I can tell, Rex is working on his own, with maybe a few outside associates."

We needed Supe help to clean up this mess. I pondered this for a moment. Still daylight, the only people I could call would be Weres, shifters or fairies. I knew how busy Alcide and Lance were; I didn't want to disturb them. Besides, this matter really didn't have any thing to do with the Pack. The Andromedas were a vampire and fairy matter, mainly. I pulled out my phone and dialed Fintan. I explained the situation quickly, and he said that he would be at the colony in less than an hour.

Catherine and I sat down on a couple of folding chairs and regarded one another.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" she asked.

"I came to see you," I said ruefully, pointing at the Doberge disaster on the flour. "I brought you a present."

She laughed out loud.

"You came to see me and bring me a present?" she looked as excited as a child. I don't guess visits and presents were a common occurrence in a leprosarium.

"My friend Octavia is getting married," I said, feeling decidedly lame at this point. "To Wizno, you remember Wizno, the brownie who fought the Andromedas with us?" She gave a quick nod. "I wanted to see if you would be interested in singing at their wedding."

She burst out laughing again.

"I'm serious," I said. "You're a classically trained vocalist, right? We have a band for the reception. We just need someone to perform a song or two at the ceremony."

"Oh, Sookie now," she said quietly, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I never really made it to Juilliard, remember. I don't think I'm quite ready for all that."

"Well, will you at least come, then? " I asked hopefully. "It's going to be in my home, you know, it's quite an eclectic group of people. I can't imagine that you won't feel at ease, won't find someone to talk to."

She looked doubtful.

"I've been away from people for so long," she said reluctantly. "A social gathering outside of the colony - it's been decades, Sookie."

I reached over and grabbed her hand. "Honey, it's like the Misfits Christmas all the time at my house, you'll see. Everyone knows what it's like to be different. There's going to be brownies and Weres and vampires and witches," her eyes widened here. "Trust me; we're a real motley crew. No one will judge you. Just the people-watching alone would be a complete blast.

"Honestly, I can't imagine a more perfect opportunity for you to come out of seclusion," I smiled as I spoke.

"The woman I met her the night of the Andromeda takeover – Pam - will she be there?"

"Yes."

"Oh," she said. "I do love Pam."

"Doesn't everyone?" I smiled again. She patted my arm. "I'll think about it," she said, nodding.

"Am I going to be in trouble with the vampires?" she asked.

"I don't know how they are going to react, Catherine," I said truthfully. "I will put in a good word for you. I would imagine that Rex is in a great deal more peril than you are."

She nodded and then looking conflicted about what to say next.

"There's something else you should know," she said slowly. I felt my stomach flip a little at her tone.

"Spit it out, Catherine," I returned, a bit on the sharp side.

"I wasn't the only guinea pig Rex gave the serum to," she said. "There's someone else – someone who's related to you - "

"Minnie," I said grimly. Catherine nodded. "He said he met her at some strange party at your house."

That Pure Cupid party will live on in infamy for the rest of my life, I do believe.

"Rex used most of the first run on me. There were five vials left to give to Minnie. She's gone through it already, but the results were good enough to satisfy Rex. He told her it would cost ten grand to get more made. That didn't faze her a bit. She brought him the money yesterday, in cash. Told him there was plenty more where that came from."

I blinked rapidly as I digested this information silence. With a groan I sank back in my seat. I swear I'm going to strangle that old lady with my bare hands.

********

_**Thank you once again for reading and following. Remember the links for Hotel Monteleone and Gambino's are on my profile if you haven't seen them yet. As a reward for my wonderful readers I am almost finished with Chapter 40 and hope to post it before the end of the week as well – and FYI it's both full of fluffy fun and lemon-flavored – at least for the most part *smirks* **__**As always, I'd love to hear from you – it does inspire me so. **_

_**PS I've decided to take the plunge and publish a few of my original short stori**__**es over on fictionpress dot com sometime in the next week or so, but, don't worry, I'm going to finish Chapter 40 first. I'll put the links on my profile and let you all know if you're interested. Hey, one good thing about the bad economy, reading's still free, right? We'll all be poorer but better-read by the end of this thing, that's for sure. Hang loose, Misscyn **_

**_PPS There's a tiny spoiler for Chapter 40 on my profile, check it out :)_**

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	40. Chapter 40

**A/N This is a huge chapter y'all! A little more than 10,000 words, and I really wanted to split it into two chapters, but that would have cut out Eric and all the lemon flavor, and I'm afraid I would've been drawn and quartered by irate readers if I broke my promise. It's nearly twice as long as my longest chapter, and three times as long as the ones I've been writing lately - I just got into a zone with it, and it flowed, praise the muses, that doesn't happen near often enough. A great big thank you to Wanda W., who not only beta'd this chapter but contributed creatively as well. I am very blessed to know you, girl. **

**I was wondering if there's been a lagging interest in fan fic lately, and then all these stellar writers posted chapters over the weekend yahoo! For those of you who have wondered, ****my bulldog Thelma Lou is slowing down, but otherwise does not appear to be suffering, thank you so much for your concern. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the SVM universe or the Sookie Stackhouse novels; they all belong to Charlaine Harris, and I'm just dressing them up a bit here. I do own the characters I've created, and they do whatever the hell they want to, regardless of my wishes, on a right regular basis.**

**Chapter 40**

I hated to admit it but I felt a good deal better when Fintan arrived, Bruno in tow. My grandfather looked cool and collected as always, and my mood instantly improved Sometimes a man's presence is just comforting, damn it. I had to admit it also felt good to have a paternal figure that I could call in a pinch. My father died a long, long time ago.

John never made a peep the whole time, and I feared him to be finally dead. Upon inspection, Fintan stated that the ingestion of flour on top of his already weakened state had, in fact, put him in a deep coma. He called for a Supe-appropriate doctor. I really appreciated his presence.

I introduced Fintan to Catherine and she filled him in as best she could. Bruno, dressed in his ever present fairy guard regalia, stood to the side and looked decidedly dejected.

I walked up to him and touched him on his shoulder. "Sorry about Rex," I said. I knew they were close friends, even though Rex had always been kind of a bad seed. He tried to smile back but faltered.

"We're going to have to call the vampires," Fintan said. "Even if it's only to leave a message before dusk. They'll be angry if we don't."

He pulled out his cell phone. "What's your Viking's number?"

My instinct suggested one course of action, my mind another. I went with the instinct.

"Don't call Eric," I said thoughtfully. "Let Felipe deal with this one."

My grandfather lifted an eyebrow at me.

"There is a chain of command," he said.

"I know," I said. "But Eric has been somewhat out of hand lately, and I have a reason for calling Felipe, trust me."

Fintan gave me a measuring look, then shrugged and dialed a number. He left a message for Felipe, and Victor, too, while I busied myself cleaning up the cake mess. I really wished someone would move John, but since apparently they wouldn't, I covered him with some of the black paper from the windows. I asked Catherine for a blanket, but she looked at me like I was trying to save a half-dead possum in the middle of a busy highway.

I wanted to get out of there but felt like I should hang around and at least try to do some damage control for Catherine when the vampire coalition arrived. I started to get very nervous about not calling Eric, but I did have a plan. I only hoped he'd understand. Fintan got a call back from Victor informing him that the king was on his way from his New Orleans estate and would arrive at approximately nine pm. Once we received that call I swallowed my pride and called Eric; thank the lord I got his voice mail, I really didn't want to talk to him directly. I explained the situation as best I could without giving anything away to anyone who might be listening in, and then hung up.

Felipe, Victor and Sandy arrived with the usual amount of muscle. Felipe had on his cape tonight, I noticed with a little grin I tried to hide behind my hand. He strode into the room with his usual debonair attitude, and I once again was struck with how commanding a presence he possessed. "Fintan, Meez Stackhouse," he said with a nod. "We shall converse."

Well, I guess we shall. We sat down on the folding chairs and went over all the events again. Bruno and Catherine sat together in two chairs against the wall and regarded our group apprehensively. If the vampires felt a reaction to Fintan's half-fairy scent, they didn't show it; maybe it wasn't that strong, or, like Niall, he was able to suppress it.

"My guards detained Rex in the Fae realm," Fintan said. "The female," he indicated Catherine by inclining his head, "awaits instructions."

"King de Castro," I jumped in. An irritated flick of Fintan's eye let me know I was treading on thin ice here. "I just want you to know that Catherine really can't be blamed for this situation. She was merely a pawn."

"I'm sure I am able to discern fault on my own, Meez Stackhouse," Felipe said coolly. I swallowed hard. "Come here," Felipe beckoned Catherine with a crook of his finger.

"All of her people are dead and gone, she has no family or friends. No one need know what happened here," I interjected, fully aware that I probably shouldn't say anything.

Felipe silenced me with a glance and turned his attention to Catherine.

You may believe yourself to be unfortunate, but you are a very lucky woman, Meez-"

"Wasson," Catherine said quietly.

"Meez Wasson," he continued, "I have heard your story and I am not completely unmoved by it. However, I am presented with a very tricky situation; you have knowledge that is dangerous, and you are a human. I could have your glamoured, but I may need you to remember certain details of the past few weeks for my own purposes. If I trust you, and you betray that trust by ever speaking of this unfortunate incident to anyone, I will have you killed."

"Yes your majesty," Catherine bowed her head.

"You will turn over any serum you have in your possession, you will give my associates any information they may want, and you might be required to testify at the trial of the errant fairy," he said sharply. She nodded.

"I knew victims of leprosy in my human life," he said. "It is a tragic disease, one I wish on no one. For now, you are free to go."

Catherine walked away, guided by Sandy and Victor. Fintan waited with me.

"I wish to speak with Meez Stackhouse alone," Felipe said.

Oh hell. Everyone filed out. Felipe fixed me with an intent stare.

"There is the matter of your aunt. I remembered how I know her. She pulled a little disappearing trick on me some time back, and is now in my debt."

Ahh shit. "She's elderly, King de Castro…." I began. "Felipe, please," he interjected.

"Felipe, " boy, that felt funny to say. "She's hard-headed and ornery, but I'm sure I can talk her into giving back what's left of your money. And I'll pay the balance with my share of the Andromeda funds."

He regarded me closely for a few tense seconds.

"Have you spoken to your Viking?," this abruptly.

"No, I haven't spoken with him in nearly a week," I said, twisting at my hands. For some unknown reason I felt ashamed.

His eyes glinted and a corner of his mouth twitched upwards. Before I could stop it a single tear rolled down my cheek.

"You care for him very much, do you not?" I nodded, a little choked up. I realized, then, that a private audience with Felipe would be a rare occurrence for me indeed, and I'd better make the most of it. On impulse, I reached over and placed my hand over Felipe's. He raised an eyebrow at me, but did not correct my boldness.

"He is a good man, the best of men," I said, leaning forward to look him directly in the eyes. "He is loyal, and brilliant, and inherently fair. He is also ruthless, manipulative, and incredible savvy when it comes to vampire politics. I know you have your doubts about him because he was part of Sophie-Anne's regime, but I assure you his allegiance is a formidable asset. I don't know what's going on with us as a couple," my voice broke here and I struggled to regain my composure, "I want you to know that I will always help him, and you, even if he and I aren't together. But…"

I took a deep breath. Don't threaten the king, Sookie, don't threaten the king.

"But if you were to treat him unfairly, you would lose my willingness to work with you, forever. You may be able to force me, but I would never be the telepath, the asset to you that I might have been. My heart will not be in it, and I am nothing without my heart." I finished the last part of my speech quickly, and then stared into my lap.

I jumped when he reached over and lifted my face by my chin, leveling my eyes with his. "You are attempting to bargain with your king?" he said softly, too softly. "For a man who may very well have abandoned your affections?"

I nodded, looking away again. He dropped my chin.

"I have heard of your loyalty, Meez-"

"Sookie, please," I interrupted.

"Sookie," he inclined his head. "I have heard about your extreme loyalty to your former companion, Mr. Compton, who, from what I understand, did little to deserve it. " I rolled my eyes a little before I could even stop myself. "But what you are telling me here is that you will remain loyal to Mr. Northman, regardless of what happens between you two personally, with regards to my regime?"

"That is correct," I said.

"You may be placing too high a value on your services," he said with a hard glance. "It turns out that telepaths aren't as rare around these parts as one might think." He gave me a challenging look. I didn't know what to say to that, so I remained quiet. He tapped his fingers together thoughtfully as he regarded me.

"Your Viking is a very lucky man," he said quietly. I snorted a little, again before I could stop myself. "Why don't you tell him that sometime," I quipped before I could stop myself.

"You miss him," he observed, looking at me like I was a new type of lizard he'd just spotted on a rock. I nodded, and looked away quickly before I cried again.

A curious emotion crossed Felipe's features – regret, remorse even?

"Perhaps you will speak with him tonight," he said with a smile. "If you do, please inform him that I accept his offer."

Apparently he had no intention on elaborating. I nodded in acquiescence. Unexpectedly he leaned forward and placed a hand on my arm.

"Contrary to common belief, I am not the devil, Sookie," he said. "I too, remember what it is like to have a heart," he winked, much to my amazement. "And as valuable his talents and yours are separately, together you and the Viking are quite an impressive pair. I have great faith in you both."

Well, that sounding promising, at least.

"However," he continued a bit pompously, "he did neglect to foresee this little situation," he made a broad sweep of the room with his arm, "and I will have to straighten it out myself." He looked extremely self-satisfied at this point, and I stifled a grin.

I started to thank him, but he waved his hand in a dismissive manner. Apparently our little pow-wow was at an end. He turned his head and barked an order in the direction of the door. It opened and the others filed back in. I stood awkwardly.

I hung around for a few more minutes, just making sure everything was okay. I exchanged numbers with Catherine, and she promised to at least consider attending the wedding on Saturday.

Fintan walked up to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

"You can go now, granddaughter," he said. "The vamps and I will take it from here."

"Okay," I said, "Will I be seeing you Saturday?"

"I don't suppose I could miss it, as long as I've known Wizno," he said. "But I do have one request?" His lips twisted into a smile.

I nodded. "See if you can seat me next to your friend I met at the cabin - Madelyn - at the reception?" I grinned. "I'll do it," I promised.

As I got ready to go I felt a little dejected. I didn't want to admit it but I was hanging around in part to see if Eric showed up, but then it occurred to me that if he did it would be all awkward and everything, plus he might be mad, so on that mental note I got the hell out of there.

I knew it was chicken shit to run like that, but, as I've told you before, I guess that just makes me chicken shit, then. I pondered over the events of the day, all the thoughts swirling around in my head, the things I knew, the things I didn't know. I hoped I'd made the right moves, but I just wasn't one hundred percent sure.

As I pulled out of Carville a group of armadillos skittered across the road in front of my car. I slammed on my brakes and the front runner squealed and turned to look straight at me. He was missing his left eye, and I shuddered. I can't blame Catherine for wanting healing, I told myself. She just went about it in a real messed up way. And Minnie – oh God, Minnie. I decided to wait until I had a good night's sleep before I even tried to figure out what to do about her.

I jumped in the shower as soon as I got to the hotel. I was worn out, but not in that tired, 'I wanna go to bed and die' way. It was more that restless, 'I gotta do something to change my life right now' type of weary.

Dealing with Supes is so different because of my telepathy. In my human life, I know my dentist Dr. Gillespie thinks I'm lying when I tell him that I floss twice a day, even though it's the truth and I have the firm, pink gums to show for it; he just doesn't believe that anyone does right by their gums. I know that when he has time between cleanings and fillings, he likes to fantasize about sitting graveside at the funerals of his patients, sanctimoniously bemoaning their unnecessary non-flossing-induced, and consequently heart-disease related deaths.

I know that my personal physician, Dr. Hemme, is clinically depressed because he put himself through med school to make a difference and now he spends his days tending to hypochondriacs and chronic malcontents. He's afraid if anyone suspects his mental state it will hurt him professionally, so he self-medicates with drug rep samples and hides his sorrow behind a gruff exterior. Everyone else thinks he's an asshole, and it's cost him a few patients, but I know the truth. I know.

My fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Flowers, sees me in the grocery store and wonders why I'm not barefoot and pregnant or a serial killer yet; she always thought me a little bit stupid and a whole lot of weird. I know that a senior deacon in my church, Alan Mortimer, has secretly lusted after what he inwardly refers to as the 'sweet curve' of my ass since I was twelve years old.

But even with the bond, I have no idea what Eric thinks. In that way, I'm just as miserable as any other woman whose man is emotionally MIA, maybe more so, because I just don't have much practice at this. All I have to go by is Bill, and he was as clueless as any human man could ever be when it came to relationships. Jeez, Madelyn is so right, I realized as I brushed out my hair. Vampires really aren't any better at this than we are.

I pulled out a dress I'd bought for a date night with Eric that never happened. It was sleeveless, beige with dark blue and purple lotus flowers and purple chiffon ribbons a deep v neck. I liked it because it gave the illusion of innocence while hugging my curves just so, the deep v neck set off my cleavage in a way Eric would have really appreciated. I slipped it on over a matching lavender-gray bra and panty set I'd also purchased with Eric in mind and then pulled on a pair of purple sandals to match. I touched up my makeup. grabbed a small beige clutch, with a long thin strap so my hands would be free, and I was on my way.

I was born and raised in Louisiana, and I'd never had coffee at the Café du Monde. I didn't know if I would have time in the morning, and I was restless, so I headed that way first.

There was a line for to go coffees but I decided I might sit and order a bite. I'd sworn off dinner earlier but maybe I could order a bowl of fruit or something. The waiter, a tall African-American man in a white uniform, arrived at my table a few minutes later.

"Compliments of the gentleman by the door," he said with a smile as he sat down a café au lait and a warm beignet. I looked across the room to see an older gentleman, perhaps in his early fifties, very handsome, with jet-black hair graying at the temples. I noticed he was dressed in a tuxedo, but had removed his bowtie and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt. I started to refuse, but then realized it would not only be rude, but it would put my waiter in the awkward position of having to return the coffee and doughnut to the gentleman, and also to relay my rebuke. I'd been put in that position at Merlotte's before, and it's not pleasant.

I nodded quickly in thanks, attempting to be gracious yet not encouraging. Apparently I failed, as he stood smoothly and moved toward my table. "I was hoping you'd let me join you, miss. I saw you walk in. If you don't mind me saying, New Orleans is no place for a beautiful young woman to wander the streets alone late at night."

I took a deep breath and prepared to turn him away. Instead, I did a quick mind scan, and found my self surprised at what I found. He meant me no harm, wasn't even thinking in a sexual way, although he did appreciate my cleavage, I noted. The man was grieving, perhaps the loss of a loved one, and truly did not want to sit alone. Weary, I let down my guard. It was a coffee shop, not a bar. Would it really hurt anything? I was lonely, too.

"Please have a seat," I said, holding out my hand. "My name is Sookie Stackhouse."

I had to appreciate those glittering dark eyes. "I'm Beau Sinclair," he said. "Nice to meet you, Miss Stackhouse."

I looked at him closely. "Beau Sinclair? Of Sinclair Oil?" I blurted out.

Oh, lord. Perhaps the richest man in the area, Beau Sinclair owned Sinclair Oil and controlled a good portion of the off-shore oil interests of Louisiana and Texas.

"Yes," he said simply.

Wow. Of all the people to meet, the most distinguished member of one of the most aristocratic old southern families around, not to mention the wealthiest. I recalled seeing an article on the recent death of Beau Sinclair's wife, one Anna Carrington Sinclair, a socialite whose philanthropic works were widely known.

"You are a visitor to our city?" he asked as the waiter set a fresh café au lait in front of him.

"Well, sort of, I'm here on business," I said. "I'm from Bon Temps, but I've never spent much time here."

"Ah," he said. "What a pity." He gazed longingly out at the street. "There's no other place exactly like it, even after Katrina. This city has all the heart in the world."

As if on cue a street band struck up the chords of 'Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans,' and he and I looked at each other and laughed. He had a nice laugh, easy and melodic, and I instantly relaxed.

"I have a corporate office in Shreveport," he said. "But I've never been to Bon Temps. Tell me about it."

We chatted a little more, just talking about Bon Temps and my job mainly. He didn't mention his wife, and I didn't ask. While we were talking I would pick up on waves of sadness from him, so I just kept the conversation light, without flirting, I hoped.

"You've been at a formal affair this evening?" I indicated his tuxedo. Despite our age difference I couldn't ignore the fact that he was movie-star handsome, with a definite Clooney-ish appeal. He looked down at his attire. "Yes," he said. "There was a state dinner. I had to entertain a few OPEC executives tonight. It wore me out," he continued with a rueful look. "I left them at the other end of Bourbon Street. Those guys really want to raise hell when they come to the states."

He possessed a good deal of practiced, polished charm and I couldn't help but enjoy sitting and talking with him. Pretty soon my coffee and doughnut were gone, however, and I had no reason to linger. "Well, I should be going," I said as I rose to my feet. "Thank you for the coffee. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Sinclair."

"Where are you staying, Miss Stackhouse?"

Uh-oh. "The Monteleone."

He nodded. "That's a little ways away. Do you mind if I escort you back to your hotel? It's really not safe for a woman alone at night, and you are so lovely," he said sincerely.

I hesitated.

"I will leave you in the lobby," he said. "I would just like to ensure that you arrive safely, I promise."

What the heck, I wasn't really looking forward to walking back alone this late at night myself, if the truth be known. Again, I nodded in agreement. I wish Tara and Amelia were here, I thought. What would they think if they saw me walking the streets of the French Quarter with none other than Beau Sinclair?

As we strolled Beau gave me a little history lesson on the Quarter and pointed out the Greek revivalist architecture mixed in with gingerbread styles and lacy ironwork of the old South. For a really rich guy from a muckety-muck kind of family, he sure was easy to talk to. His mind reminded me of a California Closet, most all of the thoughts neatly folded and separated into drawers and boxes. His melancholy mood lifted a bit as we walked and he busied himself explaining the sights to me. I became happier the closer we got to the hotel, and we entered the lobby talking and laughing.

The elevators were located on the other side of the lounge and we started to make our way across, when I stopped in my tracks. There, sitting in one of the oversized period chairs in front of the fireplace, sat none other than Eric. Across from him with her back to me, was seated a woman with long, auburn hair. Her shapely legs were stretched to the side between them. A jolt of jealousy shot through the long-defunct bond; I guess I'd let it open back up when I wasn't paying attention. I looked at the woman again, and her long legs showing the way she had them crossed, and sent my own shot of jealousy right back.

Eric stood and approached us. He was wearing a dark gray silk tee and gray slacks, with his hair tied back. He looked gorgeous, and smelled wonderful, as always.

"Sookie," he said, bussing me on the forehead, "we were worried about you." He put a possessive hand on my waist and turned to my companion. Eric fixed us both with an intent stare that made me decidedly uncomfortable. I made the introductions briefly. "Mr. Sinclair has been kind enough to escort me back here so I wouldn't have to walk through New Orleans alone," I added as I unsuccessfully tried to wriggle out of Eric's grasp. He had some nerve.

I turned to Beau. "Thank you so much for the cafe' au lait and the beignet, and for walking me back," I said. Eric's grip tightened as his eyes moved quickly from Beau to me. I felt him probe at the bond, and I childishly snapped it shut again. He grinned and his grip loosened a bit.

Beau smiled. "You're welcome, Miss Stackhouse, it was my pleasure to make your acquaintance. You're quite an interesting young woman." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, then handed it to me – completely oblivious, I might add, to the fact that Eric had stopped grinning and was now making a fang-enhanced sound deep in his throat quite similar to that of a highly-strung Rottweiler preparing to attack. "If you ever need anything, give me a call." With a nod, he walked out the door.

"What was that about?" Eric all but ground out. I shrugged and put the card in my clutch. He had no right to interrogate me. "It's not like you to take up with strange men, my dear Sookie."

I did my best to level him with a glare.

"I don't believe I've met your companion," I stated, nodding toward the woman whose back was still to me.

"Oh, I believe you have," Eric said with a smirk. "Sookie, let me introduce you to King de Castro's new personal telepath." My jaw dropped as the woman turned her head toward me. It was Minnie, but it wasn't. Oh. My. God. She'd dyed her hair auburn, and apparently gotten extensions too, because it flowed down the back of her black glittery gown. The effects of the serum were as obvious as they had been Thursday night, but Minnie also had wonderful bone structure, something no wrinkle cream could give a woman. She was in full makeup, and stiletto heels, the straps of her dress cross-dressing across her ample and surprisingly youthful chest. Although clearly not a spring chicken, no one could deny her striking appearance. Dragon lady, cougar, what ever you wanted to call her, Minnie had it goin' on. She looked absolutely fabulous.

"Hello Sookie," she said with a wink. "I heard you've been talking some smack about me."

"Aunt Minnie!" I said. "Oh my God, you look great, but do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"

Minnie blinked her perfectly mascaraed eyes at me. "So dramatic," she said. My temper flared.

"Seriously, Minnie?" I said. "I'm being dramatic? Just because I think you may have caused trouble, for yourself, and for us," I gestured to Eric and myself, "when you decided to use de Castro's money to fund experimental drug developments by Fae renegades, made possible due to the torture of an Andromeda who was under the protection of Eric?!" My voice rose a little too loudly there at the end, and Eric gave me a warning glance.

Minnie rolled her eyes and looked at Eric. "Told you she'd freak," she said.

"Perhaps not so much trouble anymore," Eric said, addressing me and ignoring Minnie. "We think we may have worked out a solution. After several hours of negotiations, we have decided that Minnie is going to work off her debts with the king, and she's happy," here he gave Minnie a cutting glance, "to do it." She beamed back.

Another voice interrupted.

"Well, I see you haven't managed to get my great-granddaughter killed yet, Viking," Niall's voice boomed as he approached us. "Of course, it's only Tuesday."

"Niall," I squeaked, running up to him and giving him a hug.

"Well hello, Niall," Minnie drawled. "You giant sack of fairy shi-"

"Alrighty then," I cut in. "If everyone knows one another we can skip the introductions."

"I don't believe I know…," Niall eyed Minnie suspiciously. Realization dawned on his face. "Minnie?" he asked in an incredulous tone. "Is that really you?"

Now, as mad as I was at Minnie, I couldn't help but feel a little victory for all womankind at Niall's reaction. She gave him a very cheeky grin.

"Good God Almighty," Niall said, a little shaken. "No wonder Rex was convinced he'd make billions."

"Watch yourself," Minnie said tartly. Niall bowed in an old-fashioned and gallant manner. "Forgive me, Minnie," he said. "You were always a beautiful woman."

"Why are you all here?" I asked. "I came to see you," Eric said pointedly. "And to show Minnie where she'll be working Friday night." I raised my eyebrows.

"Harrah's. It's owned by an associate of Felipe's," he explained. "Money is going missing."

"There's a convention, and the theft always go up when a big group comes in town. This is what de Castro wanted you for Friday night," Eric said.

Niall was still staring at Minnie. "Perhaps I could escort Miss Hale," he said. "That way you and Sookie can spend some time together."

Eric looked at me. I couldn't meet his eyes. If he said he didn't want to spend time with me, surely I would die.

"It suits me," Eric said.

"Minnie, is that okay with you?" Minnie appeared to stiffen somewhat. She gave Niall a withering look.

"I would like to speak with you , Minnie," Niall said softly. "It's been a long time."

Minnie hesitated, and then nodded her head. "Behave yourself, you old goat," she said. "Remember I'm working here."

I groaned inwardly. No, Minnie didn't just call Niall an old goat. It didn't seem to faze him. He held out his arm and they left together.

"What was all that about?" I asked Eric. He shrugged. "Water long under the bridge, I imagine," he replied.

Eric and I were left staring at each other. Just to do something I sat down in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, and he followed suit. He sat back in the chair and regarded me narrowly, his right ankle balanced on his left knee.

"How is my beautiful lover this evening?" he said, his tone just a little edgy. "When she is not picking up oil tycoons in coffee bars, that is?"

"I know you're not talking to me," I snapped back. I looked around the room as if searching for the person he addressed.

He snorted and brushed invisible crumbs off his lap.

"Not that I owe you any explanation, but he's a recent widower. I read his mind and he was simply lonely, and did not want to drink his coffee by himself. As it turns out, neither did I," I stated flatly. "It was a brief interlude, nothing more, and it served a purpose for both of us, as I was lonely, too."

Something flickered in Eric's eyes, although his countenance remained stony.

"This ignoring thing is getting really old," I said. "Don't think you're going to sweet-talk your way out of it."

"Four days. Four days, Sookie, and you lose faith in me?" His eyes bored holes into mine as he set his jaw.

"After how close we've become, after the honeysuckle in the swing, after the garden," he pressed, then looked away. I inwardly groaned. He sure knew how to turn a situation around.

"I never completely lost faith," I said truthfully. "But I didn't know what was going on, I never do, and you know how unhappy that makes me. And it didn't make me feel good exactly, knowing my guy didn't want to call me or see me. I am a woman, after all."

"I was ordered by the king to cease contact with you until the Minnie debacle got sorted through," he stated flatly.

I didn't expect that. "Why?"

"He had doubts about your loyalty, wondering if you were working with Niall or other Fae, as you are related. Then when he met Minnie, he became doubly concerned. He actually put out an edict that no vampire was to be in touch with you until the situation was resolved. If I had contacted you," he looked away here. "It would have put you in grave personal danger."

I frowned. Come to think of it, I had talked to no vampires since Thursday; Eric was the only one I cared about.

"And he lifted it this evening after Fintan called him about John?"

He shrugged. "I haven't spoken with him yet."

"Then why are you here at my hotel?" I challenged, lifting my chin.

His eyes hardened. "Fuck Felipe," he said. "I have resolved the situation and found him his telepath, and I won't stay away from you any longer."

"You told Lance to tell me hello," I said somewhat sulkily.

"Yes."

"What was up with that?"

"Did Lance fail to mention that Felipe was at the table when I told him that?"

"Yes," I said, "he did fail to mention that." Eric looked pissed.

"So you did it to defy him?"

"I did it to let you know I was thinking of you, and yes, in part to defy him. He had no right to keep me from my woman. I won't tolerate him trying to do it again."

"You snapped at me through the bond," I tried not to sound pouty. He sighed. "Felipe was telling me about his little edict right at the moment you tried to feel for me. I was irritated at him, not you."

Eric looked down at the floor. "Why did you have Fintan call Felipe first tonight?" he asked, a thread of steel running through his words.

"You weren't answering my calls, remember?" I tried not to sound curt and failed somewhat. "Plus," here I looked at my hands, "It was strategy, although a little risky. Felipe was angry that you did too good a job with the Andromedas, so I thought if he got to take care of the problem tonight, he might feel better toward you."

Eric gave me enigmatic look, just as his phone rang. He looked at the number then at me. "Excuse me for a moment."

"Yes, your Highness," he answered. "Yes, I heard about that. I apologize for the inconvenience."

Eric's eyes snapped to me.

"I see," he said slowly after a few minutes. "Thank you, your majesty." He snapped close the phone and stared at me intently.

"What did you say to Felipe this evening?" he asked.

"This and that," I muttered. "You've never been anything but good to him and he needs to realize that."

Eric drummed his fingers on the table. He continued to stare at me, but I pasted an innocent expression on my face and concentrated on the intricate Italian tile surrounding the fireplace. Apparently he came to a conclusion on his own. He stood thoughtfully and walked over to my chair.

A frown furrowed his brow as he regarded me silently. I started to fidget under his gaze.

"I am sorry that I caused you pain," he said softly. I nodded, my gaze downcast. He grazed his fingertips over my shoulder. "It did not make me happy to be without your presence or conversation, either."

"Don't hurt yourself there," I returned, and he laughed. I smiled a little. I didn't think he'd remember.

"How did you get here so fast?" I asked.

"Helicopter," he answered.

"You brought Minnie here in the helicopter?" He nodded. "She loved it," he said. I had no doubt.

Eric shoved his hands in his pockets almost absently, jingling his keys. He continued to regard me intently, and I continued to try to appear unconcerned about that.

"This is not simple," he said abruptly, gesturing from his chest to mine. "Between you and I." He frowned a bit.

I pursed my lips to keep from smiling. "It is, and it isn't," I returned. He jingled his keys again.

"We have much more to discuss, including your little trip to Carville after my warning," he gave me a decidedly frosty look and I swallowed. His eyes softened a bit. "But for now it can wait. Come," he held out his hand to me. "It's early yet. New Orleans waits for us."

I hesitated. "No one knows this city like I do," he said with a sudden, flashing smile. "Walk the streets with me, my dove. We need a break."

Without taking a lot of time to think it over, I decided to cut him some slack, at least for a little while. It was only a little after eleven, and here we were, in this amazing city, this fabulous hotel, and we were both dressed to go out. I could insist on arguing, and I could pout some more, or I could have some fun.

God help me, I chose fun.

So we hit the door. Eric appeared to have the weight of the world off his shoulders, at least temporarily, and I relaxed in his presence. Soon we were on the sidewalks of Bourbon Street and Eric began buying me chilled Beaujolais in plastic cups from street bar vendors. It's just too hot in New Orleans in June to drink room-temperature wine. Pretty soon I had a nice buzz. Even though it wasn't Mardi Gras, a carnival atmosphere pervaded the streets. There were beads, of course, all over the place, and people carousing. We joined in the revelry.

I don't know how much wine I drank. Eric kept my cup full, I can tell you that. Every few feet or so he'd stop to kiss me 'to check the integrity of the vintage' he maintained. The warm, wet, wine-flavored kisses made me I feel like I was drinking Eric, a completely heady experience. Although vampires obviously can't drink, the few drops of wine didn't seem to hurt and apparently had an exaggerated effect on him, as his face flushed a little. Pretty soon he appeared to be buzzing a tiny bit himself. Eric a little lit is a whole lot of fun, let me tell you. We laughed and joked and held hands like teenagers, completely lighthearted for a much-needed change.

I thought the French Quarter appeared colorful and lively when I was alone; in the company of a certain Viking vampire it positively pulsed and drummed with electricity and energy. We ran through the streets like two kids let loose in a trailer park at Halloween. I could barely keep up, but I had to try because if I lagged behind he would swing me up in his arms and carry me, which was super embarrassing.

We stopped at an outdoor Zydeco club and tried to dance. I don't know whether to blame the wine or the slick heels of my shoes, but Eric attempted a dip and we both ended up on our asses – although, technically, he hit the ground first and broke my fall. Thank God my dress somehow stayed down. From the utterly shocked and completely comical expression on Eric's face one might surmise that he had never fallen on his ass before. I managed to get up and sit down on the concrete curb, where I held my stomach and guffawed so loudly that Eric threatened to pour my cup of wine over my head if I didn't shut up.

We dusted off and then we were off again, this time to a jazz and blues bar, and the slower music fit our mood and skill level at that point much better. Eric offered to buy me a Sazerac cocktail, just so I could say I'd tried one, but I politely declined. Now that absinthe is legal I was a little leery of the effects. Not to be a prude, but being with Eric is a head trip in its own right, and I didn't need a hallucinogenic substance added into the mix. Yeah, I know they say those claims are unfounded, but I worked in a bar, remember. People act and think weird after they drink absinthe, and I have first-hand knowledge of that little fact.

We stayed there for a while, and then after I told Eric about losing the Doberge cake he insisted we go to Gambino's. I didn't want to carry a whole cake around, so I let him buy me a slice. I washed it down with more wine and he leaned over and kissed me, right there in Gambino's, in front of God and everybody.

"Could you taste the cake?" I asked, swiping my thumb across his lip.

"Mm," he said. "Yes, what is that flavor?"

"Caramel," I giggled. He looked so blissful. "Vampires are always complaining about the way synthetic blood tastes. I think we should make caramel-flavored blood, chocolate blood, wine blood," I said. His eyes lit up.

"That could be a fantastic idea," he said.

"Yep. Y'all wouldn't want them for your meals, probably, but we could mix up dessert bloods with just the essence of the flavor – like liqueurs," I continued. He nodded, wheels turning in his head. We headed out for the street again, and then I remembered I'd left my pocketbook on the table. Eric went back in to retrieve it, and a group of Bourbon Street revelers came down the sidewalk towards me, covered in the ubiquitous multi-colored bead necklaces.

"Hey, look at the rack on that chick," a curly-headed boy of about twenty-five said to the others when he saw me. "Hey, baby, show us your tits," he called leeringly.

"Don't be stupid," I said. "It's not Mardi Gras. My boyfriend's inside and he'll kick all of your dumb asses. You need to move on."

They ignored me and started circling around me and chanting. Just then Eric flew out of Gambino's, puffed up and fangs down, a terrifying sight. He picked up the curly-headed one by the scruff of his neck and held him with his feet off the sidewalk. "Disperse," he roared as he tossed him to the ground. Buddy, cockroaches don't move that fast when you turn on the lights.

"Were you scared, my dove?," he crooned as he gathered me up in his arms. "Nah," I said. "I knew you'd be out before anything happened. I do think you made Curly pee in his pants, though."

"Curly's a lucky guy," he said. I agreed. We walked on down the street, a little more subdued, but still happy. It began to sprinkle, and Eric pulled me around the corner down a little alley, and under the back awning of one of the shops. I looked up to see that dimple in his cheek, that crease by the side of his mouth that I do so love.

"So do it for me," he purred, nuzzling my neck.

"Do what?" I breathed.

"Show me your tits," he said in his darkest, sultriest voice.

I reached behind his neck and tugged on his ponytail until he met my eyes. "You're not serious," I said.

His eyes were two shining pools that pulled me, drowning, into their depths. "Yes," he whispered, "I am."

"You've lost your mind. I'm not doing that," I huffed. He continued to rain kisses down my neck.

"Please," he said, still talking in that sexy tone that just gets me every time. "Just this once, lover, for me. Let me have this," I gasped as his lips found the sweet spot on my neck. "No one is around. I want to see you, I have missed you so."

Before you judge me here, do I need to recap my week for you? Minnie's shenanigans, Eric's not talking to me, the whole episode with John and Catherine and Felipe. Plus he looked and smelled so great, and I was warm and deliciously fuzzy from all the wine and kisses. A lot had gone on, more than a few things had been resolved, we were in the process of making up, and he did say please.

Honestly. What would you do, if it happened to you?

I'll tell you what I did.

I showed him my tits.

I looked up and down the street; Eric was right; no one was around, at least not right then. Slowly I crossed my arms and reached each shoulder and untied the ribbons that held my dress up. I pushed the top down, along with my bra, and there under the awning in an alley off Bourbon Street, I exposed myself to Eric.

His eyes lit up then darkened, hot with passion. The look in his eyes, on his face, was completely gratifying. You might say what I did was tacky, and before that night, I would have agreed with you. But it didn't feel tacky, not at all. There, in the muted light, with the night falling all around us, and the jazz music filtering in, with just me and my vampire, it felt beautiful and surreal. In that moment, (and I emphasize _in that moment_), I did not regret it.

"Yesss, Sookie, yessss," he hissed, brushing the backs of his hands over the tops of my breasts. I am not an exhibitionist, but I'd never felt so naughty, so wanton. There was something empowering about it, at least for a minute or two. My nipples hardened as the night air hit them. I tried to pull my dress back up but he pulled me to his chest so hard I could not.

He kissed me then, his mouth making promises I knew all too well it could keep. He bent his head further and kissed each nipple chastely, then reluctantly began to tuck my breasts back in my bra and help set my dress to rights. I had to giggle; he reminded me of a little boy kissing his toy soldiers good night before he put them up because his mother told him he had to go to bed.

Just then a bullhorn blasted a warning blare from the street above. Startled, I looked up to see a policewoman barreling down the alley on a scooter.

"Step away from the awning," she said through the horn. My fingers shaking, I tried to right myself. Eric helped me tie the ribbons at my shoulders, but as I gave him a look that would quell another man he appeared astonishingly amused.

I wanted to kick him in the balls. "I will get you back for this if it's the last thing I do," I hissed, right as the officer pulled up to us.

"Public nudity is a sex offense, miss," she said. "Even in New Orleans. It's not Mardi Gras, you know."

"We are aware," Eric said dryly. I elbowed him in the ribs.

"I need to see your drivers' license, ma'am." I couldn't have been more humiliated. Flustered, I dug through my purse, my hands still shaking. Eric laid his hand over mine; I glanced up at his face, and he didn't look like he was laughing anymore. "Sh, my dove, calm down," he soothed. "Everything's going to be all right."

"It's my fault officer," he told the policewoman. "I encouraged her to do it, otherwise she never would have, I assure you."

"Not my problem," the petite brunette woman quipped as she pulled out her citation book. My heart sank. Oh God, please don't tell me I went to New Orleans on business and ended up getting cited for indecent exposure. If Gran wasn't already dead, this would surely kill her.

"Surely there is something we can do," Eric lowered his voice to its most seductive. The policewoman lifted an eyebrow at him and kept writing.

I knew he was getting reading to glamour the woman, and God help me, I was all for it. Just then, though, she looked up at him in the face and gasped. "It's you, isn't it?"

Oh, no, I groaned inwardly. Not another calendar fan. She surprised me, however.

"Lestat?"

I looked at Eric, about to laugh myself. Inexplicably, he nodded.

"Oh, I knew it," her eyes danced. "You are legendary; you were the best, the best ever. No one else has ever compared."

"Thank you," he nodded his head graciously.

"May I have your autograph?" She turned toward her scooter. "And a photo?"

She reached inside a bag in her scooter and pulled out a camera.

"I'll do both," he said. "If you would be so kind as to forgive my companion her little indiscretion." Here I shot him a venomous glance and he had the audacity to smile at me. I wondered if that rusty butter knife would still be handy when I got home.

He posed with her while I took the photo, still seething. Merrily she took off.

I fiddled with my bra straps and refused to look at Eric. "Do you realize if I had been convicted that I would be listed as a sex offender on a national registry? And I could never set foot in a public park again?" I said, most self-righteously, I might add.

He smirked at me. "It's not funny, Eric," I groused. "I love to go to parks."

"It never would have gotten that far, my dear," he said. "I would've drained that woman first."

My eyes flew wide. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" I shrieked, moving away from him. In a flash, he was on me.

"Don't be angry, lover," he whispered in my ear as he took my arm. "I did enjoy it so, and the policewoman is now happy. Do not sully it for me now. You were so magnificent when you showed yourself to me. We've had a lovely evening."

"Did you glamour her?" I asked sulkily.

"No, I didn't have to. But I would, if needed."

"What was all that Lestat business?"

"You know they have The Vampire Ball here every year in honor of Anne Rice's works," he said. I nodded.

"Well, before vampires came out, I played the part of Lestat at the ball several years in a row."

"What for?" I asked, confused.

"For fun," he said as he leaned into me, his eyes glinting. "It was a way for me to interact with humans, without feeling like I had to pretend to be one of them. I could let my fangs down, so to speak. I had to wear my hair in wavy curls and dress in period clothing, but it was still enjoyable."

I tried to imagine a curly-haired Eric in 18th century dress and snorted.

"Who'd they get to do Louis?" I asked derisively. "Bill?"

"Not hardly," he said with a smile. "I'm sure they would have determined Bill too morose to play even Louis."

I had no doubt. On a bad day Bill could make Louis look like a freaking rodeo clown, and how well I knew it.

The more I thought of Eric as Lestat the warmer I got inside. "She said you were the best ever," I teased a bit.

"And I was," he replied confidently. "Tom Cruise my ass."

Indeed.

We continued to walk the streets back toward the hotel. Eric pulled me into another alcove for a quick kiss.

"I have enjoyed playing in the French Quarter with you, lover," he murmured.

Paybacks, as they say, are hell. "I'm glad," I whispered against his lips. "And it's been fun kissing you and all. You do realize however," here I ground my pelvis against his and was rewarded both by his bulge and a growl, "that you are cut off."

I felt his lips curve upwards against mine.

"Cut off?" he repeated. "I don't believe I'm familiar with that term."

"Oh, I have no doubt that you know what it means, even if it has never happened to you," I retorted coolly. "We can do a little messin' around, if you insist; but rest assured, that you are, in fact, cut off." He raised his eyebrows, and I continued.

"First of all, you made me suffer for nearly a week, and I think you could have tried a little harder to contact me, even if under an edict," I said. "Then, you snapped at me through the bond, which traumatized me. And just now, you caused me great humiliation on a public street.

"And although I am prepared to forgive most of the above, in light of the extenuating circumstances, I can't just let it all go. There needs to be some kind of repercussions, or you'll just do it all again, which I don't think I can bear. Therefore, no sex for you."

He smiled. I didn't like that smile, the smile of a giant being challenged by a midget. The way Goliath must have smiled at David. David won, Sookie, I told myself as my insides quavered. David won.

"You wish to hold out on me, my lover?" He ghosted a kiss across my collarbone. Something in his tone scared the hell out of me. "After we've been 'messin' around', as you call it, all over New Orleans for hours?

"After we've kissed, and danced, and tasted?" he continued. "After I've held you and touched you, after you've shown me your naked breasts under a street light?"

The folly of my words came crashing down on me. I found myself in deep, deep shit.

I tried to rally some sense. Why, I didn't want to cut him off, I realized with a start. I wanted to roll all over that fantastic suite with him, and badly. How was I going to get out of this with any dignity intact?

"Well, what would you do?" I asked, trying unsuccessfully to escape his embrace. "Tell me honestly what you would do, if the situation were reversed."

"Perhaps we can reach a compromise," he said, halting my movements with his hands as smoothly as a killer whale stills the harp seal he's chosen for dinner. "Perhaps you will refrain from pleasuring me, but I can still pleasure you. Why should you deny yourself?" he asked in a smoky, though reasonable tone, as he trailed his hands, ever so lightly, up and down my arms. "I do not wish to see you suffer for my misbehavior, my sweet, sweet girl," he blew across my ear and I shivered.

"That's an idea," I offered as diplomatically as I could – which was really hard, since I found myself suddenly and completely out of breath. "It's a blurry line, but I'll consider your alternative. However, you do know it'll never work," I continued somewhat jokingly as I leaned my head back to look at him.

"Do you doubt my control?" I could tell by Eric's face that he wasn't joking. Not at all.

"No."

"Do you doubt your own?" This with a challenging, albeit heated look.

I am so far past screwed here.

****************

_The link for the dress Sookie wore with Eric in the French Quarter is still on my profile if you'd like to see it. Right now I'm wondering if I should I keep Mr. Sinclair around for a bit – just for shits and giggles, as my husband is wont to say - don't worry, we haven't seen the last of Eric's jealousy over that little incident, ahem. _

_Your thoughts and comments do mean so much, seriously. Thank you for reading. We live in very interesting times, and nothing seems easy anymore. I truly wish you all the best of luck in your endeavors. Take care, misscyn_

_8/30 Just a quick note - I'm working on Chapter 41, and it's a doozy for me, I'm having to stretch myself here for the bedroom scene - but just as a tiny spoiler, I'm letting you know there will be lemons, lemons, lemons, and some heavy-hitting pillow talk as well - just FYI and to give ya somethin' to look forward to - hopefully by the end of the week, for a little Labor Day fireworks and fun *wink* misscyn _

9/2 This same note is on my profile - Guys, I'm so sorry, but I don't think I'll have Chapter 41 ready until next week. The bedroom scene is kicking my ass, my muses have already packed up and left for the holiday, so I'm out of luck here. I want to do something a little different, and I want to do it justice and be proud of it, so I need a little more time. It's important to me, I hope you understand. I have some diet stuff to post later, maybe tomorrow, I'll let you know :o


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N Finally! This one I struggled with guys, I guess karma caught up with me because the last one was so easy. Thank you to my beta Wanda W., she's the shiz, and I changed a few things after she gave it back so don't blame her for any screw-ups please. Thank you to nolaqueen who grew up in New Orleans and helped me with some Big Easy local and logistical questions I had for this chapter, 'cause it's been a while since I lived down around there. **

**As I've mentioned in my profile, I grew up in the Delta, and spent a lot of time around blues and jazz players during my college years – I have lovely memories of whiling away warm fall nights in blues joints – the best ones would pop up in shacks or barns in the middle of a corn or soybean field on the edge of the Sunflower River. You could see through the walls and the rough-hewn wood made an uneven dance floor, but there was some partyin' goin' on in those places, and some of the most spectacular, heart-rending, and soul-lifting music in the world. Wonderful memories - my favorite one is of watching a spry little planter's wife, about 60 years old, dressed in a mink stole and pearls on a Saturday night in that old shack, drinking Bud in a can and dancing on a tabletop with a saxophone player thirty years her junior, horn in hand. Working on this chapter brought that back. Anyway, enough about me. Thank you for all the reviews, and all the story alerts, I don't usually have time to reply but I treasure each and every one, please believe me. Hope you like the chapter, and you all take care - misscyn **

**Chapter 41**

As we entered the lobby a striking young woman approached the marble–topped reception desk. She was tall, with waist-length light brown hair, green eyes, quite beautiful. I saw Eric's eye flicker almost imperceptibly up and down in her direction as we passed.

"You like that, hmm?" I asked as we boarded the elevator.

"Very attractive," he admitted with a smile, then creased his brow slightly. "Feet are a little on the large side, however," he added, and I had to fake a coughing fit right quick to cover up my laughter.

We rode the elevator in silence, his blazing blue eyes boring into mine. The air buzzed with unsaid words, pregnant with possibilities. I started to get a little nervous as we walked down the corridor without speaking. I opened the door to my suite and let Eric in.

He looked around appreciatively at the elegant and well-appointed room. "The Were did well," he approved. "I'm surprised. Perhaps he values you yet."

I nodded. "I don't have anything for you to drink," I said, killing time by looking in the mini-fridge. "No matter," he said casually. "Perhaps you will allow me to dine, as long as I take no pleasure in it." He tinged the last bit with a little sarcasm.

"Eric I won't withhold nourishment from you,' I said sharply. "This whole thing is ridiculous and we need to forget it."

One corner of his mouth turned up. "I forget nothing," he said seamlessly. "I do have a few phone calls to make," he cut a sideways glace at me as he walked toward the balcony, "before we get down to business."

Well, fine, I thought irritably. "I'm going to jump in the shower then," I called over my shoulder. He was apparently already on the phone and didn't answer.

I stepped in the shower and let the hot water wash over me. I washed my hair and conditioned it. I took my time, killing time. It got really hot in the bathroom, so eventually I put on a robe, opened the door and walked out on the balcony to comb out my hair. Eric was still on the phone outside, so I went back in and sat down on one of the chairs and began the somewhat tedious process.

A few minutes later I felt a cool hand at my shoulder as he took the comb from me and started working with it. Eric had never combed out my hair before, and it felt so different coming from him, but right. I closed my eyes and relaxed. When he finished he ran his fingers through it, fluffing it so it would hair dry.

He pushed the robe down and rubbed my shoulders and the tension of the day relaxed, right in the knot between my shoulder blades where I hold it. I felt his fingers trace the scars on my back, and then he leaned forward and kissed them softly.

"I got those for you, you know," I said, my voice muffled.

"Yes," he said, "and I apologized quite profusely."

"Under duress," I added.

"First you told Bill to go to hell. Then you were lying on that couch at death's door, and demanded satisfaction from me," he said. "A human, smarting off to vampires as the life literally drained from her. I was completely captivated. If I'd had any sense, I would have either taken off running right then and there, or finished draining you myself."

I didn't know quite what to say to that - it was so unlike Eric to make such a statement – aside from the draining part, that is. I sat quietly while he pulled the robe off my shoulders, and I was suddenly naked, sitting on that chair. He moved his hand around and touched the scar on my right side.

"And then there's this," he smiled. "If Bubba hadn't come through that window-"

"I still would have stopped you," I interjected firmly.

"Are you positive of that, my dear Sookie?" he said as he bent and kissed the scar, then looked up from below at me. "I'm not so sure."

He ran his hand over the scar from the bullet on my shoulder. His fingers stilled as he examined it. "I wasn't there to take this one," he said. "You have always been so much trouble."

I turned my head to meet his eyes and the unfathomable expression they held. I became acutely aware that I was naked and he was still fully clothed. All my former tiredness left me, and I suddenly felt very awake.

"I had room service bring up an array of blendeds," he said, indicating the tray on the table. "I ordered a fruit and cheese tray for you, in case you get hungry." I surveyed the fruit and cheese. I had eaten nothing but pastry for dinner. The glass-covered tray held a variety of local fruits, Ponchatoula strawberries, scupperdongs, tiny sweet plums, and kumquats, along with wedges of bleu cheese and havarti dill.

"I ordered you a Vieux Carre' cocktail too," he continued. "It's a specialty of the hotel, if you want it. If not, there's plain juice."

Something about his attentiveness made my stomach flutter nervously again. I felt like a new colt getting prepped for a big race. I reached for the stainless steel shaker jar and poured a little of the cocktail in the cut glass tumbler and sipped it; mm, yummy. I grabbed a handful of kumquats. I felt funny eating naked so I shrugged back into the robe, half expecting Eric to stop me, but he didn't.

"I haven't had any kumquats since I was a little girl," I said and smiled at Eric. I rolled one about in my fingers, like Gran taught me, to break up the flesh, and then bit into it. The rind tasted sweet, but the flesh distinctly sour, more so than I remembered. I must have screwed up my face because Eric laughed. I bit into another one and did the same thing.

"Why do you keep eating them if they cause you to make that face?" he asked. I shrugged. "They're addictive." I looked up at him through my eyelashes. "Do you want to taste?"

"Oh, I'd better not," he said. "That might give me _pleasure_." He picked up a few kumquats himself and rolled them around in his hand, then leaned over and placed one between my lips.

I bit down, looked at him, and had difficulty swallowing. I wondered what foods he ate when he was human, what he missed. So much about him I still don't know, such a mystery Eric was, would always be. I wanted him to kiss me, to taste the kumquat, but he didn't.

"Eric, I'm tired," I said, "and I don't need all this drama. If you want to be with me, fine, then be with me. But I don't feel like playing a bunch of games, and I don't feel like being made fun of and teased to death."

His countenance remained unmoved. "Oh, you made this bed, my dear, you're going to lie in it," he said in a dark, sexy, but very firm tone.

"We need to set up a few ground rules, so we both understand," he said as reached for his belt. Something in the very deliberate way he unbuckled that belt made my breath catch in my throat.

"I will touch you, but you will refrain from touching me," he went on. "You can say or do whatever you want to try to break my control, except the letting of your own blood, which would be unfair." I nodded, struck a little dumb for a moment.

"Am I going to need a safe word?" I asked, only somewhat joking.

He sat on the ottoman across from me.

"How do you know about safe words?" he asked, searching my eyes as he spoke. "Have you needed one before with someone else?"

"No, I've never had one," I said truthfully, although I couldn't help but think a safe word might have come in handy on a couple of occasions with a certain dark-haired vampire, (assuming, of course, that he would have heeded such a word), but Eric didn't need to know about all that. "I read, I'm not a hermit. I know about stuff."

"You will always be safe with me Sookie," Eric said quietly. "All you ever have to do is tell me to stop – and mean it," he qualified with a smirk. "And I've never been into pain unless you count," here he gave me a devilish leer, "extreme frustration pushed to the point of near madness as pain, that is."

He reached over and grabbed my ankle and stroked up towards my knee.

"But if you insist, then your safe phrase can be 'I surrender my body and soul to you, fully and completely, forever more,'" he said, and he winked.

"Not likely," I huffed as I took another swig of liquid courage.

"Just exactly how long did you have to spend in my Aunt Minnie's company to broker your deal with Felipe?" I asked, suddenly inspired.

Eric thought for a second. "Perhaps four, five hours total."

"I'd say we can call it even, then," I replied dryly.

Eric lifted an eyebrow at me again and smiled in an extremely smug and irritating way. "We are far from even, lover. Nice try."

Billie Holiday's 'Spreadin' Rhythm Around' wafted up through the open French doors from the hotel bar below and I moved to the beat a little bit. The peppier music put me in a more frolicsome frame of mind and on a sudden whim I changed mental direction. It was a beautiful night, and we were in a gorgeous French Quarter suite with fabulous live music playing below. I really had no reason to be scared; this was Eric, after all. If he was hell bent on playing this game, well, then, I'd go along. I took another long swig of my drink.

"All right, big guy," I said, giving him an exaggerated 'come hither' look. "Go ahead. Knock yourself out."

His eyes lit up with a wickedly feral delight. "Remember you said that," he murmured, and with that he spun me around, pulling the robe off in the same motion. Before I knew it I was on my back on the bed, he was naked too, and I felt his mouth on my inner thigh.

He kissed the crease of my thigh, where it met my pelvis, again, and again, trailed his tongue from my hip and as far down as he could go, then on the other side, again, then again. He laved my ears, moved his mouth around each breast at length, kneaded my hips, caressed my neck, trailed his hands along every inch of my legs and then flipped me over and started again on the other side, loving on every inch, I mean every inch – except the most important parts, I might add, which he left achingly devoid of any ministrations whatsoever.

Beads of sweat broke out on my brow as I struggled with myself not to touch him or moan. He turned me over again and traced my fingers and kissed the palms of my hands, then the knuckles, one by one with his tongue, until they tingled.

He grasped the column of my neck ever so gently, and pushed his hands up along the length to the base of my skull, massaged there, held my head for a minute, trailed his hands over my face, then kissed me – my forehead, eyebrows, nose and lips, lightly moving over my face. I smelled the kumquat on his hands as he touched me; I tried not to gasp but failed.

"Something wrong, my lover?" Eric asked, brushing my thigh with his cheek, then dragging the stubble of his chin across it, then again, hinting at the memory of that chin once more…

"It's all right," I said through gritted teeth, my hands knotted in the sheets to keep from touching him.

He glided his hands, ever so slightly across my lower stomach to that vulnerable part of the body above the pubic bone, between the hip and the thigh, and caressed over, and over, and over, until I felt I might explode from the nearly ticklish and sweet torture. A small groan escaped my lips.

"Say it," he commanded.

"Say what?" I returned.

"Say I surrender," he replied, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"I will not," I grunted as he raised himself over me, his hair failing from his shoulders and brushing across my breasts as his pelvis settled in next to mine. He was hard, so hard. I wiggled my hips just slightly. He grunted then, and I saw the strain in his face.

"You say it," I said, sensing weakness.

He narrowed his eyes and set his jaw. I tried to pull away and he followed. Turned my head, and he turned his with me. He was on me like white on rice and I had no way out.

"If that's all you're going to do, why don't you just stop," I groused.

"Is that really what you want?" Jackass, of course it wasn't.

His coolness chilled me and I shivered as he took on the heat of my body. He laid his weight on me as he traced the outline of my ear, my shoulder blade, and back around to my spine with a single finger. I wanted to touch him badly, but I forced myself to close my eyes and just feel.

"I could restrain you if that would make things easier," he offered. My eyes snapped open. "You might like it," he raised his eyebrows.

"Not necessary," I shot back. He lowered his head between my legs and started trailing his lips and tongue everywhere but where I needed it most.

I bucked my hips. "Eric," I said, once again inspired.

"Mmm," he answered, his mouth busy.

"Eric, you need to move to the right."

"I know where I need to be," he responded with a chuckle.

"Apparently not," I snipped.

I watched with trepidation as the golden lion's head slowly lifted and its eyes fixed on me with a predatory, yet curiously detached stare. "Are you directing me?"

I swallowed and rallied my stance. "You seem to need direction."

His lips curled. "What is the saying - you can lead a horse to water," he replied, "but you cannot make him eat-"

"Hush your mouth," I snapped automatically.

I decided right then and there not to make this easy for him. Because I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of giving me satisfaction, when I couldn't give him satisfaction. Or something like that.

I concentrated, and hard.

What was that imagery trick I'd plucked from JB du Rone's brain when we were making out after the prom and he was trying desperately not to climax in his rented tux pants – dead puppies. JB thought of dead puppies over and over, in the back seat of that limo while he felt me up through my prom dress bodice. Dead puppies dead puppies dead puppies…..

Suddenly Eric's mouth moved from me and and I felt the cool air drying the moisture on the skin he'd left behind. "What in the name of God are you thinking about?" he asked incredulously.

Uh-oh, guess I projected that image of a bloodied litter of massacred golden retriever puppies a little too hard.

"I was trying not to, you know," I admitted somewhat abashedly.

"Why are you trying not to?" His voice took on an increasingly strident tone I didn't care for at all.

"Because I don't want to yet. Because…" My voice trailed off as I tried to explain. "Because you're making it hard on me, so I wanted to make it hard on you."

He lifted his head further then and regarded me with a growing frustration. "I don't understand. This is all about you, Sookie."

I snorted. "That's how it started out. I'm not even sure what we're doing anymore," I complained.

He glowered at me. "Just explain to me exactly why you are fighting me?"

I started feeling incredibly foolish.

"Because that's what I do, you humongous ass," I shouted angrily and turned my face away from him. I felt my stomach begin to shake, and then the bed. I turned my head around just as he erupted into peals of laughter, his forehead resting against my abdomen.

"It's not funny," I said as I fought the urge to join him, but then I chortled too, and we both lay on that bed and laughed ourselves silly. It felt obscenely ridiculous, and just as I was about to push his head off my stomach and raise up he moved with vampire speed and grabbed my hands, turned his head and thrust his tongue right there, right there at that spot, you know the spot, to the north and a little to the left. Caught off guard, I cried out, and then his incessant thrusting and licking got me and I screamed again, and that was all she wrote, no going back, and good God Almighty it rolled on and on, one of those rare extended plays, and I lost myself there for a few moments, time and space suspended. I don't know where I went, but when I got back I gradually became aware that the low, protracted moan in the room was coming from me.

He rolled away and I watched him in some sort of a daze. He looked winded, if a vampire could look that way, and lying on his back he raised his hand to push back a lock of hair from his face. As he did so I noticed a slight tremor to his hand, and that did it.

"I surrender," I said hoarsely.

He barked out a mirthless laugh. "You've already won," he gave me crooked smile as he rolled back onto his stomach toward me. "Why would you surrender now?"

Time to pull out the big guns. "Because I love you," I said. "And it tears me up to see you in this kind of ……distress."

His eyes glinted with victory. "And I love you," he returned. "But it amuses the hell out of me to see you in that same state."

"Bastard," I hissed.

"Your bastard," he hissed back, and then he was on top of me and inside me, just like that.

"I want to touch you," I said when I got my breath, attacking, lest I be attacked, "and I don't want you giving me any shit about it."

"You can do anything you want to now," he replied in steel-coated sincerity, "as long as you stop talking."

I shut up and grabbed his head, running my fingers through his hair, and then I touched him everywhere I could reach, over and over, because not being able to nearly killed me. We clasped hands then and rocked, slow and steady, in complete sync, like the rocking of a boat, like we did that night in the swing. I let go his hand for a minute so I could trace the outline of his jaw with my fingers, and he looked at me with such openness and honesty that it stung a bit, a gift I hadn't asked for and didn't know if I could accept. He finished quickly, with a shuddering, low shout, and began to kiss and lave the sudden moisture from my face, and the tenderness of it made my heart ache with the dull, unwavering urgency of a sore tooth.

He rolled over and we lay intertwined, without words, for a few minutes longer. Reluctantly he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I'm getting in the shower," he said. I wanted to protest. I liked the way Eric smelled after sex, his cologne mixed in with the cool and musky, outdoors scent I always associated with him, and something else a little untamed. Like a wild stallion that had run through snow and juniper bushes in a strange and frozen landscape, far, far away. With that thought in mind I watched his sculpted hind quarters as he moved toward the bathroom - slowly, I'm sure, for my benefit.

When he emerged I entered the bath, sticky from the humidity and activity, ahem. I freshened up quickly – the warm-water bidet had a blow-dry function, you gotta love modern technology. As I wrapped a towel around me and walked back into the seating area I found him leaning with his back against the wall, also clad only in a fluffy white towel around his waist. I tried to slide by him but he caught me lightly by the wrist.

"You told Felipe you would be loyal to me even if I left you," he said, eyes half shut, measuring me. I nodded, not meeting his gaze.

"You went to Carville alone after you promised me you would stay alive," he continued sternly.

"You ignored me for nearly a week after you promised me you wouldn't leave," I retorted.

"I haven't left," he said, then brushed his thumb across my cheek.

"And I'm still alive." I tried to pull away again and he chuckled.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked playfully then, pulling me closer. "You only had one orgasm."

"Maybe so, but it was a _doozy_," I quipped as I tried once more to move away, shy for some reason.

"You only have one life," he said, and he wasn't playing anymore. I stilled, captured in his arms, and looked him dead in those hauntingly beautiful eyes. Now or never, I thought. I cupped his face in my hand and leaned forward.

"I realize I only have one life, Eric," I said carefully, locking my eyes with his. "Rumor has it that if I do it right, one will be enough."

He stared at me for a minute or two while I held my breath, and then unexpectedly gave me a slow, rueful grin. "I do believe we're going to have to agree to disagree on both counts," he said. "But the subject is far from closed."

With that he ripped both towels off and pinned me against the wall with a hard kiss. He rubbed the entire length of his body against me and made a deep, rumbling sound in his throat. I looked down and saw his erection straining against my stomach, somehow even bigger and more engorged than before.

"See something you want?" he taunted, running his fingers through the downy hairs on his abdomen.

"I'm not sure," I retorted. "Is that a penis or a weapon?"

"Your choice," he growled, pushing against me harder and kissing me forcefully again as he raised and parted my legs.

He fucked me then, moving hard and fast, nothing soft about it, his face clamped down and his eyes shuttered. I needed it that way, to cut the sweetness from before, the way you need a slice of jalapeno pepper and maybe a handful of salty potato chips after that big bowl of ice cream. The fact that he knew I needed it that way, and that he probably did too, ripped at me inside more than the tenderness had before, and I became a bittersweet and confused mess.

He continued with a furious rhythm, and I held on to his massive arms, lost in a swirling whirlpool of overwhelming emotions and sensations. I knew he could feel it through the bond, because he raised his head and met my eyes with a gaze of such fierceness and passion that my heart betrayed my mind as I took it in, and copious tears began rolling down the sides of my face, and, as I threw my head back, filling my ears. What did Tara tell me once, never let a man see you cry during sex, that's how they know they've got you - but he knew, dear God he knew, what exactly is it again that I'm clinging to here?

He bit my shoulder in a motion both swift and rough and my orgasm blindsided me, arriving without the usual pomp and circumstance. I felt cheated for just a few seconds, but then he expertly shifted his hips and soon another wave of pleasure washed over me. I wondered dazedly if I would ever understand how he does what he does to me, or if I even really wanted to understand.

Eric finished with a series of shudders and shakes. He lowered me to the ground; my knees quivered, then buckled, so he lifted me in his arms and carried me to the bed, which I mentally dubbed 'the step-down unit' and giggled at my own silly cleverness.

He looked at me quizzically but said nothing. He sat down beside me and pulled me into his arms, running his fingers through my hair. The band started up a rendition of Muddy Water's 'Got My Mojo Workin', and he started singing it under his breath, which made me laugh out loud in delight; Eric appreciating the blues, who've ever thunk?

We chilled there for a while, hanging out and catching up. I'd missed him terribly, and I like to think he'd missed me too. For a while we chased each other around the suite and danced on the balcony in our underwear. He fed me the sweetest Ponchatoula strawberries I'd ever tasted, and this time he got to taste them, too. Mostly though, we sat in that oversized sumptuous bed and told stories and talked and laughed, like we did in the cabin before things got all crazy with the Andromedas. We put the outer world on hold, which felt like a most excellent thing to do. I half-expected someone to complain about all the noise we were making, but no one did. Apparently I got a call sometime when we were outside dancing, because when things settled down, about 3 am or so, I heard my phone as it vibrated against the smooth surface of the coffee table.

Eric picked it up and handed it to me without asking as he headed back toward the balcony. We'd gotten naked again, and I supposed he was going out there that way; not one for modesty, that Eric.

"I have a message," I said. I punched in the code and then listened to the garbled, tearful words. Slowly I shut the phone and sat staring at it in complete bewilderment.

"Who was that?" Eric asked as he walked back around the corner.

"Octavia. She and Wizno had a big falling out. The wedding's cancelled," I replied, not fully believing the words myself.

_******************_

_**I put some blues links and other stuff about this chapter at the bottom of my profile. I also posted spoilers and hints, and a little fanfic manifesto, check it out. Remember that I'd love to hear from you :) As always, take care of yourselves misscyn **_

**_9/15 I've updated my profile with some info about how folks have responded to my manifesto, if you're interested :)_**


	42. Chapter 42

******A/N Thank you to nolaqueen once again for helping with New Orleans info, and a big thanks to Wanda W. for beta'ing and helping me with a creative choice concerning this chapter. Sorry for the delay in updating, my life has been beyond chaotic and it's not getting any easier I'm afraid. My job has changed and it will be very hard for me to get a moment to write anymore. However, I do not want to be one of those authors who leaves a story hanging. So stick with me, I'm not giving up. Take care misscyn**

**Chapter 42**

I sighed and laid my phone back on the table. So much for putting the outer world on hold.

"Did she sound serious?" Eric asked as he sat beside me.

"Well, she was crying, but yeah, she sounded pretty resigned," I rubbed my face. "I'll deal with it tomorrow. I'm too tired now."

He held out his hand to me. "Come now, lover, let's get you to bed. You have a long day ahead of you." I nodded and walked to the bed and slid between the sheets. Eric checked the room and then followed me in. He pulled me to him and tucked me into his side. I fluffed the sea green and gold embossed feather comforter over us, and then slid my hands up the expanse of his chest, enjoying the feel of his smooth skin stretched over taut muscle.

"I meant to thank you for cutting me off," he said with a snide little smirk as he kissed the top of my head. "Perhaps you'll do it again sometime."

"Shut up," I returned. "I told you it wouldn't work."

"Oh, I think it worked very well," he said, stroking my arm.

"Remember that if you ever want to do the same to me," I replied in what I hoped was a sultry tone.

"Oh, that's not likely to happen," Eric said with a devilish glint in his eye. "I would not, how would you say, cut off my nose to spite my di-"

"Watch yourself," I snapped quickly. "And would you stop with the butchering of the English language?"

Eric snorted. "It's such an easy language to butcher," he drew small circles on my arm as he laid back and closed his eyes. I detected a bit of exhaustion on his part, and realized that the week may have taken a toll on him too.

"Did you ever hear if John was going to make it or not?" I asked.

"Felipe had him transported to a Supe hospital, and there they transfused him totally with human blood," Eric said. "He will live, unfortunately. I would have let him die. As a matter of fact," here he looked down at me, "that was the plan."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Eric squared his jaw. "Why do you think I told you to stay away from Carville? Why do you think I told you it wasn't safe?"

My stomach clenched.

"You knew?" I said, barely above a whisper.

He nodded casually. "I was watching Carville very closely."

"So you were letting this go on with John being tortured?"

He shrugged. "It was killing several birds with one stone. John needed to be punished – killed, really. He was the main force behind the Andromedan decision to come here. I was through with negotiations, so I didn't care. Rex is a bad seed, and I merely gave him enough rope so he could eventually hang himself."

"And Catherine," I whispered.

"Wasn't getting hurt, so it wasn't an issue," he said firmly. "Besides, she was playing a dangerous game and knew the consequences."

"What about my Aunt Minnie?"

"Also not getting hurt. Believe me, Pam wouldn't have allowed it," he said with a chuckle.

I scrambled to my knees and frowned at him.

"So you knew about everything, and you were letting it all go on because it suited your purposes? So I just messed up your game by going in there?"

"Yes, Sookie, I believe I told you to stay away," he said pointedly.

"Oh." I looked down at my hands, feeling a little bad. "You might have mentioned something," I said defensively. Eric sighed.

"I want to be as honest with you as I can afford to be for both our sakes, Sookie," he said, looking me directly in the eye. "But when it comes to emotions, or your individual concept of right and wrong, you have been known to be somewhat of a loose cannon."

I glared at him.

"If you had known John was being tortured, you would have tried to stop it." His look dared me to argue. "I'm trying to keep you and the vampires in my retinue alive and well, Sookie. Sometimes hard decisions have to be made, and I'm one who has to make them." He paused at my expression.

"Hard decisions, when it comes to human-based morality, are difficult for you. I understand that, so I try to keep them out of your way."

I remained unconvinced. "So you're telling me not to worry my pretty little head," I snipped.

"Indeed. I am acting in your best interests, in a world where you still don't understand all the rules. And your best interests includes not only keeping yourself alive, but keeping me alive as well; because let's face it, you need me, Sookie. For precisely the reasons we just discussed."

I felt my dander rising up. "Why? Why do you take it upon yourself to be in this position? Why do you have to constantly manipulate and maneuver? Why do you protect me, even when I don't want to be protected?" I railed, hating feeling helpless once again.

His eyes gleamed. "Because that's what I do, you stubborn little harpy," he said triumphantly.

I wanted to slap him badly, right across that smirking face. I literally had to stop myself from raising my hand. I knew it would do no good to protest; his tone and demeanor brooked no argument. I decided to sulk a bit and looked studiously away. Eric let me get away with it for a few moments, then reached over and laced his fingers with my reluctant ones.

"I have to admit that letting Felipe clean up the mess was a good call," he conceded. "Apparently I overestimated the maturity and wisdom of an ancient vampire king of three states."

I knew it took a lot out of him to say that, and I smiled in spite of having my nose a little out of joint. I looked him good in the face and noticed that little half-crescent of a wrinkle by his mouth, the one that pops up when he's worried. My rancor all but dissipated on the spot.

"Ah, don't feel so bad," I teased, trying to lighten his mood. "Even Einstein said creativity is more important than knowledge."

"Your creativity is not to be overlooked, Sookie," he said in all seriousness. "I believe it stems from your telepathy somehow, and how you view the world differently than most humans or Supes for that matter, as a result. It has provided you with valuable insight. How you have managed to maintain your faith in basic human goodness, with all that you've been privy to in people's heads, is beyond me."

I reflected on this for a minute. "You know, the worst thing about reading thoughts is knowing how uncharitable people are in their hearts, how unkind they can be. It bothered me for years. But then I saw how, even when they felt that way, they would try to do the right thing time and time again. Just like saying something kind to a mean old gossip at church, or giving money to a grown child who's going to waste it. People act out of love and mercy more than they realize. I'm lucky because I get to see that, and most other people don't."

Eric smiled almost wistfully. "It's been many years since I've been a human, but it's hard to imagine things have changed that much. I think you are an optimist and a romantic by nature, my Sookie. "

My turn to shrug. Eric turned off the light and I lay back against him, reveling in the feel of his skin against mine.

We slept together pretty well. I woke up about eleven the next day and missed check-out, but it didn't matter because Eric reserved the room for another night so he could rest anyway. I sat in the bed with the laptop and worked for just a few minutes, and then I took a shower. Afterwards I just put my sleep shorts and a tank on and then crawled back into the bed with him.

I loved to watch Eric while he slept. He seemed so defenseless. Someone else might think he looked like a big, carved slab of marble, a statue of male perfection, but a statue nonetheless. That's not what I saw when I looked at him. I looked at Eric with softened eyes, I realized. I wondered when I started doing that – maybe after Jackson, maybe even after Dallas, I didn't know. But I did know that if my eyes were a camera they went decidedly out of focus when they landed on him, and it had been that way for a while. And a large side of dead meat was not what I saw.

I saw Eric, my Eric, and all that he entailed. Rather imposing, as big as he was stretched from one end of the bed to the other - 'spread out like yesterday's wash' as Gran would say. He was on his stomach, his shoulders rising like mountains of muscle, only a little less white than the sheets he lay against, his golden hair fanned out on the pillow with his face turned toward me. I admired his strong features, the powerful brow, the long, masculine nose and the full lips. I eyed his slender waist almost reproachfully, daring it to be more narrow than mine, and gazed with admiration and slight envy at his perfect behind, so muscled, yet at the same time so sweet and curved, but yet without an ounce of extra flesh.

I took comfort in his physical size; it made me feel small, yet protected. Many times that size and strength had stood between me and physical harm and had prevailed. But I knew it in no way compared to the magnificence of his soul, the enormity of his being. I pushed his hair behind his ear and trailed my fingers down his face. He may have been stone cold, but I felt only warmth inside as I touched him. It reminded me of the first time I gazed at him this way, the first night I spent at his condo, and how I freaked out and walked all over Shreveport afterwards, trying to deal with how imperfect his physical perfection had made me feel. I realized how far we had come since then, and how much better I knew him now – but still, at the same time, how far we had to go. Remembering that day made me feel silly, so I kissed him quickly on his nose and snuggled in, running my leg in next to his, so I could feel him while I worked. I ordered a coffee service and munched on the remains of the fruit and cheese tray for breakfast, perfectly content.

A couple of hours later I heard a knock at the door. I opened it to find the hotel concierge, a young man of about twenty years old, slight with red curly hair and a big grin.

"A courier just delivered this for you ma'am," he said respectfully, holding out an expensive-looking white bag with 'Jack Sutton Jewelers, New Orleans' embossed on it in gold leaf. Reluctantly I took it from him and signed the delivery ticket. 'What the hell?' I thought confusedly. I remembered myself. "Hold on," I said as I scrambled for my purse and a tip. "It's been taken care of miss," he said with a smile and turned on his heel.

I opened the bag. A sealed envelope fell to the floor. I opened it and the folded note inside, immediately recognizing Eric's elegantly scripted handwriting:

_**My dearest Sookie,**_

_**As befitting Bourbon Street tradition, I believe I owe you a strand of beads.**_

_**E.**_

_**PS As I'm sure you will be quick to point out that these are no ordinary beads, let me assure you, my dove, that yours are no ordinary tits.**_

I reached inside the bag to pull out a beige satin case. I unfolded it to reveal an opera length strand of Mikimoto pearls, about 6 mm, dazzling perfect.

My cheeks burned hot for just a minute, and then I laughed out loud. I held up the pearls and admired them in light. They were beautiful. He must have arranged for their delivery with his day man while on the phone last night, and left the note at the concierge desk while I slept, with a sizeable gratuity. My first instinct was to refuse them, but then again – he did make me laugh, and, more importantly, I told myself self-righteously, he did almost get me arrested. I put them on and admired them in the mirror. I felt a little shallow, but it felt good to have them around my neck, to know that my guy bought them for me. The guilt gnawed at me a little more as I folded them back into their satin case. I might keep them, I thought. Maybe. I'd talk to Amelia about that. I wanted to accept them, but I didn't want to feel like a concubine, either.

"You think you're pretty cute, huh?" I turned to his sleeping form (I refused to refer to it as lifeless, even in my own head.) "Thank you." I kissed his brow. I then reluctantly set about packing up to go. When I got finished, I wrote him a note and left it by the bed.

"I have to leave now," I said, "and try to help Octavia; I'll see you later, sweetheart."

I swear a corner of his mouth twitched, but it could have been my imagination.

I called Octavia and she was still in bed. Reluctantly I checked the light-tight shutters on the windows and balcony doors about thirty times, just to be sure. I put the 'do not disturb during daylight hours' sign (with the discreet set of fangs depicted in red and black ink) on the door and I got out of there. I would have liked to stay around New Orleans and shop – heck I would have liked to have laid in the bed beside Eric all day long, just working on the laptop with him near, even if he was in his daytime stupor. But I had a long drive - five hours back, which meant I would be pulling in about six pm. I wanted to see what was going on with Wizno and Octavia first hand.

I met the concierge again on the way out. He held a large package wrapped in brown paper. "For you," he said simply. I took the package from him. What's going on, I thought, assuming it was another gift from Eric. I stopped at the desk and tore off the paper to reveal a huge illustrated book, very high quality. 'The Cultural History of New Orleans' - it must have weighed twenty pounds. A note attached read:

_**Miss Stackhouse,**_

_**I appreciated how much you enjoyed our impromptu tour of the French Quarter so I wanted to send you this book. Please accept it. It is from my wife's personal collection, as it is out of print. Going through her belongings has been extremely painful for me, and knowing that someone else might enjoy this as she did helps ease that pain and honor her memory. Anna so wanted others to be happy, even at the end. She was an extraordinary lady, you must understand.**_

_**Thank you again for a lovely evening. I do hope to see you again.**_

_**Beau Sinclair**_

The concierge smiled at me. "Popular today," he grinned. Damn straight, I thought dazedly as I hoisted the book on my hip and made my way out to the car.

At the first stoplight on the way out of town a green parrot landed on the hood of my car and groomed his feathers for the length of the light, then looked at me – I swear it winked - and flew back off again. That's right, a green parrot, I kid you not. I shook my head as I pulled out of the Big Easy. What a crazy place, but I couldn't wait to go back.

As I said on the way down, five hours gives a body a long time to reflect. I knew Eric had found a clever way to give me a gift, and he didn't mean anything bad by it. Even though I couldn't read his mind, I knew that, didn't I? I tried to shelve the decision, but kept going back to it. During the drive I pretty much talked myself into giving the pearls back. Then a minute later, I thought if I had let old Bill give me topaz earrings, I could let Eric buy me a pearl necklace.

But I just didn't want to encourage him, didn't want him going overboard with gifts, and I sure didn't want to feel like a ho. I couldn't help but feel like one of a long line of women he'd slept with and given jewelry as a result, and I didn't like that feeling. Not at all. With that in mind, I finally decided to give the pearls back, and I'd set him straight on that later. As far as Beau's gift – well. Could I really refuse a book from his deceased wife's collection? It seemed like such a heartfelt and platonic gesture, but if he was pursuing me romantically – a human man – whoa. I decided to think about that later too.

I pulled up to the house to see Octavia standing below the old oak in the front yard waving a broom at it. As I got out of the car and walked closer, I spied Wizno perched in one of the branches, just out of her reach. I dialed Fintan's number quickly and left a message that I might need some help (Wizno was really in his employ, after all) and then I approached the tree.

"Okay, what's going on?" I demanded.

"You cannot reason with her," Wizno said. "I've been up here since yesterday. She's put a spell around the trunk of the tree so I can't get down. She's lost her witchy mind." He looked dirtier and more careworn than usual, his face blackened and his hair sticking out like dreads. He had a stack of Tarot cards in his hand, and torn up ones littered the yard.

"He's tearing up my Tarot cards, the crazy little bastard!" Octavia screeched at me. She turned back to the tree and swatted at it with the broom. Wizno remained unperturbed as he ripped the Temperance card in two and carelessly let it drop to the ground.

Octavia narrowed her eyes. "You are screwing with the laws of synchronicity," she said in an ominous tone. "I feel for you."

"'Screwing with the laws of synchronicity?' That doesn't mean anything," Wizno said evenly. "You're talking a bunch of gobblety-gook."

"What happened?" I asked again.

"What happened? I'll tell you what happened," Octavia said. "My tiny groom to be decided to 'fess up last night and inform me that I will be his thirteenth wife."

"So?"

"Thirteenth, Sookie, thirteenth, not a good number, and it means that he's been married twelve times before!"

"How old are you, Wizno?" I asked.

"357," he said casually, "it's not that many wives considering my age."

Octavia ignored him. "Then he tells me how many kids he has," she continued. "He has sixty-seven children, which is bad enough, but then he says the youngest one is five." I didn't exactly know what to say to that.

"Brownies are supposed to be sterile after about two hundred years," she explained. "But he knew damn well he wasn't, and never mentioned it to me!"

"I thought you were too old," he said defensively.

Octavia's eyes flew wide; she picked up the broom and chucked the whole thing at him, hitting him squarely in the face with the business end. Shit, I could hardly blame her. More than three hundred years old, twelve wives, and he still said something that stupid.

"You have radioactive sperm, you munchkin moron!" Octavia yelled. "I'm not all the way through menopause yet and I can't take the pill because of my blood pressure," she continued her rant, arms flailing wildly over her head. "If I ever happen to drop an egg, one of that Oompa Loompa's swimmers will zero in on it like a heat-seeking missile!"

Wizno snorted loudly. Octavia picked up a rock and chunked it at him, barely missing his arm.

"Truly, he might have said something knowing that we've been screwin' like rabbits," she continued. I winced. Too much information, definitely too much information.

"He also said I was a sorry housekeeper," Octavia snapped.

"I said your technique could use some improvement," Wizno corrected.

"How good of a housekeeper do you need to be when you live in a tree?" she sneered. "And if you think I'm livin' in one, you've got another thing coming."

She turned around to me with her hands on her hips. "And you," she snarled. "You are part of this problem."

"How so?" I asked, startled.

Her lip curled. "He's a grub addict," she said, her words dripping with disdain. "And you knew all about it and never mentioned anything." She turned on me in a fury.

"What was I supposed to say?" I felt genuinely bewildered.

"You think I didn't need to know?" she challenged.

"I thought you knew."

"He's a substance abuser. Of course I didn't know."

"Well, he's an insect larva abuser," I said, quite diplomatically, in my opinion. "I thought it was gross, but I thought it was just food."

Octavia opened her mouth to speak again when we heard the air crackle and Fintan appeared. He took in the scene in silence. Octavia marched to the porch as he approached. He stood by me and didn't say a word for a few minutes.

"She found out about the wives and kids?" he asked and I nodded. "You're in trouble too," I said. "She thinks you're his grub dealer."

"You see why I got upset when you said you were a brownie as a little girl," Fintan looked at me and grinned.

"Are grubs really something that can be abused?"

Fintan shrugged. "I guess, technically, yes, but it's a bit of a stretch. I'd say grubs are about as intoxicating to a brownie as chocolate is to a hormonally charged woman."

I sat down wearily on the porch steps. "This can't go on all night. You two need to knock it off."

"He's got to go to sleep sometime," Octavia snarled.

Fintan walked up to the tree and said something quietly to Wizno and then turned and addressed Octavia. She waved her arms and said something unintelligible. Reluctantly Wizno climbed down and stood to the side I couldn't hear their conversation. Octavia stormed into the house.

Fintan walked back over to me as Wizno disappeared into the woods. "It's just pre-wedding jitters," he said. "Everything's going to be alright."

"How can you say that? They're about ready to kill each other."

"Brownies aren't the most honest creatures in the world," Fintan chuckled. "Much like fairies. Just that Wizno would confess all his secrets to Octavia before the wedding shows how deeply he cares about her. I don't believe he's ever been that honest with any of his other wives."

I stared at my grandfather. He looked so much like my father, and once again it made my heart ache.

"When people are in a fit of misery like that, what they're really saying is that they wish things were different," Fintan said. "You need to go in there and ask your friend what she really wants to change."

This seemed incredibly wise to me. I reached over and grabbed his hand. "You're only half human," I said. "How can you understand so much?"

He smiled. "I decided long ago that the human part of me was of much more value than the fairy," he explained. I lifted my eyebrows. "Oh don't think I don't enjoy the special attributes, because I do," he continued.

"But humans are the most fascinating, and the most dangerous creatures in existence, Sookie. You are all so young, even when you're old; you're so young. And so determined to make a difference, so full of life and ideas. All Supernatural beings are drawn to humans like moths to a flame, because you show us what life can be, what it should be. A life of immortality means nothing if it doesn't make a difference. And even though I am not immortal, seven hundred years, well it's a long time, a time in which one can become quite apathetic. Our lives are dry and colorless without you.

"I knew from not fitting in the fairy realm that I didn't even want to try. It is why I told Niall to keep your father out, and why I tried to keep you out. It's why Weres and vampires wanted to come out. We all know in our hearts that it is better to join in with humanity than to set ourselves apart, no matter what other Supes may tell you."

He gestured toward the door then, and taking his lead, I went inside to talk with Octavia. I found her lying on her bed face down.

"Where's Amelia?" I asked.

"She said we had bad jou-jou and she went to Tray's to spend the night," she muttered into the pillow.

"What's really wrong?" I asked quietly.

"You heard," she said as she wiped her face.

"Don't think I heard the real reasons. How about you tell me right now?"

She sat up in the bed, her hair tousled and her eyes wild.

"I'm too old to be doing all this," she said. "I can't be starting a new life over with a new man. I just need to go somewhere and quilt or knit or something, and I don't know what the hell I was thinking anyway."

"So you want to call it quits, you want him out of your life, and you want to go on and live alone and work on arts and crafts stuff until you die," I stated, just to make sure.

"I don't know what's going to happen, what kind of life we're going to have, and he's a brownie, for God's sake, Sookie!" she shrieked. "I mean, we have a good time together, but can we really have a life?"

"I don't know if anyone can answer that question for you, Octavia. The fact is you have a life now. You spend time together, and you enjoy each other's company and from what I understand," I swallowed here and looked away, "you're compatible in important ways."

She rolled her eyes.

"So does anyone ever know how a marriage is going to turn out? And does all the talk in the world about what could happen even matter?" I sat down on the bed beside her. "All I know is what happens in my own life. In my life, the things I fear the most rarely happen, and I get blindsided by things I never even expected."

"You have a lot of room to talk," she said.

"I suppose you're right," I said with chuckle. "But Eric, well, he's complicated."

"How so?" she raised an eyebrow at me.

"Well, he's so damn perfect, and conceited, and sure of himself; he's always had anyone and everyone he wants," I said. "It's hard to hold your own and try to maintain any dignity with a guy like that."

Octavia regarded me narrowly. "I know I haven't always been the Viking's champion," she conceded, "but I can't ignore what I see. He may look like a bad boy and have the reputation of a bad boy, but is that how he is with you? Set aside all the teasing and trash talk and bullshit. Has he ever made you feel cheap, has he ever treated you like you were temporary?"

I had no answer to that. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Eric had never done anything with regards to me, or our so-called relationship, that was not completely respectful and discreet. Oh, sure he made an ass of himself and acted like a complete shit at times, but he never treated me like a tramp – and come to think of it, I'd never seen him treat any other woman that way, either. The worst thing he did to the fangbangers publicly was ignore them. I'd only watched him feed from one other woman, Ginger, that night so long ago of Longshadow's death.

I'd never even seen him on a real date; I realized with a sinking feeling that he'd seen me on several. Of course I knew he'd been with countless women over the centuries. But although I knew there were women in the background whom he'd fed from and had sex with on a regular basis before we started officially seeing one another, the fact is he never flaunted it. Not once.

Back to the problem at hand. "Don't go changing the subject, Octavia," I said firmly.

"Think about it, Sookie."

"This isn't about me. It's about you. And you and Wizno, you're just _right_, Octavia. You always have been, it looks like to me. Fintan asked me to ask you what you want to change. What would that be? What would you change about him or yourself?"

She blinked and sat up a little straighter.

"I guess I would say that I wish I was younger when I met him, but if I had been younger I never would have given him a chance. I would have kept going after the same type of man I always went after, the type that left me high and dry and broke my heart. And I wouldn't change anything about him because I love him because of, and in spite of, who he is, warts and all."

"Yeah?" I asked with a smile.

"Yeah," she said haughtily back. "But it's not that easy, Sookie."

"You want to play Worst Case Scenario?"

"Worst case is he leaves me, high and dry with a broken heart," she said.

"Will you survive that?"

"I survived it before."

"If you don't give him a chance, you'll never know. Will you survive that?"

"That's the million dollar question," she said with a small smile. "He's been gone a lot this week, and I've needed him here. Guess I've been a little angry about that too."

I couldn't think of much else to add. "No one should be pressured into going on with a wedding they know is wrong, Octavia. But if you're going to call it off, just please do it for the right reasons." She nodded. A small knock sounded at the door.

"It's Wizno," he said. I got up from the bed and opened the door. He'd taken a shower apparently, his face shining and his hair slicked back and still wet. I let him in and brushed past him. He went in slowly, I guess in case she lobbed anything at his head, then closed the door softly behind him. I stood by the door for a minute and heard no screaming or mayhem. I went outside where Fintan waited.

"At least they're talking," I said. "That's a start."

We stood there for a moment not talking, but it was a comfortable silence. The wind blew his grey-blond hair about his face. I wanted to smooth it, the way I used to smooth my dad's.

"Fintan," I said slowly, "I have some questions about my heritage, about where the telepathy came from, and about my parents….."

Fintan held up a hand. He smiled at me, but his eyes were a little sad. "I will tell you everything I can, Sookie," he said with sincerity. "But you're going to have to talk to Minnie first. I promised her that I would let her reveal certain facts."

Fintan turned to leave. "I would suggest you do it sooner than later." With that, he faded into the trees.

Well, shit. I guessed that's something else I would have to deal with later; and Minnie's apparently involved even more so than I thought - oh, goody. I grabbed the book from Beau and my overnight bag and went up to the cabin to give Wizno and Octavia some privacy. I figured I'd relive my little night in New Orleans by thumbing through the book before I went to sleep. I ran a bath and just for fun, piled my hair on top of my head, put on the pearls and got in the bubbles. I also poured a glass of wine. It was past eleven and I'd almost fallen asleep when my cell phone rang right next to the tub.

"What are you doing?" Eric asked.

"Trying to relax. It looks like the wedding may be back on."

"That's good," he said genuinely. "I know you were worried about it."

"Are you back in Shreveport now?"

"Yes, I'm at the club. Minnie's staying until tomorrow. Looks like she's impressed Felipe."

"That's good." I tried to stifle my yawn.

"I missed you when I rose. I wanted to wake up with your naked form next to me," he leered huskily.

"Mmm, can't have everything," I murmured, warm in the water and fuzzy from the vino. Purposefully I splashed the water a bit so he could hear it.

"What are you wearing now?"

"Bubbles," I said promptly. "Oh, and a rope of Mikimoto's."

"Now where did you get something like that?" he asked, amusement evident in his voice.

"Ah, well, I flashed my boobs at this ole vampire off of Bourbon Street last night and he sent them to my hotel this morning," I replied archly.

Eric laughed with a wicked delight. "That must be one hellacious set of knockers you have there," he remarked dryly.

"That's what he told me. Of course, he's one hell of a vampire."

"Indeed," Eric intoned. "And would that mean you're keeping his gift?"

I squeezed the water out of a sponge and dragged it across my chest; the pearls clicked together a little as I did so.

"I guess I'd better," I said thoughtfully. "I think it would make him happy, and it would be best to make him happy every now and again. I'd like to keep him around."

"And why would you want to keep him around?" he asked, his words slightly accented and his voice tinged with only a smidgen of smugness.

I paused for a minute. "I don't really have time to make you a list," I said, somewhat coyly. "But I believe the most important thing is that he thinks I make him feel alive. What he doesn't realize," I continued in a much more somber tone, "is that he makes me feel exactly the same way."

Silence. I caught my breath as nothing broke the stillness but the measured drip of the tub faucet.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," Eric said. The phone clicked shut.

He made it in eighteen.

****************

**_There's a link to the green parrots of New Orleans on my profile, and I have updated with the response to my fan fic manifesto, as well as some other ramblings and opinions. Thank you for your thoughts and comments, they do encourage and cheer me so, misscyn_**

**10/12 This note is also on my profile - Chapter 43 is in the works, but it's perculating, not really cooking, if you know what I mean. True inspiration appears to take at least two weeks, lately three weeks, for me. Right now I'm working on a little extracurricular activity for Eric and Sookie (no, it's not sex) that I'm having a real good time doing. **

**So, let me putter, and mull, and tweak, please. It's when I do my best work. Also when I'm lit, but haven't been drinking lately as I'm back on the regimen and alcohol is not a part of the plan. I need to lose at least 10 pounds by Thanksgiving or the rabid in-laws will eat me alive instead of the turkey. So, have faith that I'm working on it, but my job change has been tough, also I have to get yelled at by the accountant again this week for my husband's sins, so pray for me. I'm not kidding when I ask for that, seriously, I would appreciate your prayers. I'm sending out warm thoughts to you all, take care, misscyn :)**

**10/24 Teaser for Chapter 43 on my profile! Love y'all! Post by Tuesday, promise!**

**10/24 Guys I'm so sorry, but when I was trying to update this page with the teaser above, I really wasn't paying attention and I clicked on the wrong box and it posted as a new chapter instead of just replacing content on the old one. I replace content on posted chapters all the time, when I find typos I missed and stuff, and I was just a little too cavalier and effed up. I really hope it doesn't tee anyone off too bad, it was seriously an innocent mistake. I will post the real chappie ASAP, and maybe another spoiler so you won't be too mad at me. :) **


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N I know it's been too long, my readers. Please forgive me. I busted my butt over the weekend to get this finished because I felt so bad about the false update. My life is pretty much upside down and it won't right itself for quite a while, but I will not forget this story, never fear. A big thanks to HopeStreet for beta'ing this chapter in a pinch. Thank you to all my faithful reviewers and followers, you make the work worthwhile.**

**Chapter 43**

I'd just heated up the water and added more bubbles when I heard the front door open and close with a thud. I tried not to grin too big when he walked into my line of vision.

Eric leaned against the door jam and regarded me warmly from the doorway. "Aren't you a sight?" he asked with a smile. I looked down. White bubbles, white tub, white pearls against my tanned skin and golden hair. Even my pinot grigio matched. I giggled.

"That was fast," I observed, taking another swig of wine.

"Not fast enough," he said, shedding his shirt and jeans in record time. He slid in the tub behind me and I laid my back against his chest, my head nestled under his chin.

"I need to get out," I said. "I'm all pruned up." I held up my hand to show him the wrinkles on the pads of my fingers.

"Not yet, lover," he murmured as he crossed his arm across my chest and fondled the pearls. "Let's stay just this way for a few minutes."

I sighed and leaned back. We didn't speak, but a world of meaning swirled between us. I felt very relaxed, and I could feel Eric becoming that way too. I didn't want to disturb him. I must have dozed off for a minute or two because I awoke with a start as he lifted me and stood up, getting out of the tub.

"You're a sleepy girl," he observed. I couldn't argue, I had to work the next day, and we'd been up really late the night before. I brushed my teeth and pulled on a silky dark blue baby doll set. I took the pearls off and laid them carefully on a hand towel to dry. He went to his drawer and pulled out a pair of sleep pants. I admired his backside as he unceremoniously dropped his towel. Hell yeah, naked Viking in the house, gotta appreciate that.

"Come," Eric gestured toward me as he pulled up the pants with a snap, "visit with me for a few minutes before you fall asleep." He grinned a little at what I am sure was my slack-jawed expression. I bounded over and nestled up on the old sofa in his arms, becoming immediately drowsy.

"Sorry I'm such a wet blanket," I said. He pulled me closer and shushed me. "Tell me about your day," he said.

I recounted the events of the evening with Wizno and Octavia. He laughed at Wizno's story, but did not smile when I told him of Fintan's words about Minnie.

"She is a very old human." he pointed out, "and we do not know that the Andromeda blood will make her live longer as well as look younger. You need to talk to her very soon," he stated firmly.

"I know," I said. "I was thinking about going over to her house tomorrow night. Will she be back in town?" Eric nodded.

"I'm just…" I faltered here and looked away. I didn't want to look like a coward in front of Eric. "I'm a little leery of what she's going to say, you know?"

He shrugged those massive shoulders. "How bad could it be?"

I stared a bit. Honestly, sometimes he could be a little dense. "Well it could be pretty bad, since everyone in my family saw fit to hide it and lie about it all these years, my entire life actually," I said tartly.

Eric shook his head slightly. "Humans lie about the most inconsequential things sometimes, Sookie," he said. "What you are imagining is probably ten times worse than the reality."

I couldn't argue with the lying part. I knew it myself from spending so much time in people's heads; although it surprised me that he would make that observation. Irritatingly obtuse one minute, astoundingly astute the next, that pretty much summed up my vampire.

"Well, we got fornicating fairies, my unfaithful grandmother, my dead parents, supernatural forces galore, Niall, Fintan, and then throw Aunt Minnie right in the middle of the mix," I returned a little sharply. "I'm expecting an epic saga of drastic proportions."

"It is what it is," Eric said evenly. "And you'll never know if you don't face it head on."

I could always count on Eric to be annoyingly and completely pragmatic.

"Fine, I'm going over there tomorrow," I said and flopped back on the cushion. Eric reached over to the coffee table, where I'd put down Beau's book. "Where did you get this?" he asked as he began thumbing through the pages. "This is a wonderful book, but it's been out of print for a while. I have one like it at the condo."

"Oh, um, someone gave it to me today," I stumbled over the words, wanting to be honest, but not wanting to make an issue.

"Who?" he asked, fixing me with that intent stare. Boy could read me, and boy, did I know it.

"Beau Sinclair, from the Café du Monde last night," I admitted sheepishly. "He sent it to the hotel right as I left."

Eric sat back on the sofa. "Did he now?" he said. I couldn't exactly read his expression, but I can tell you it wasn't a happy one.

I nodded. He looked at me again. "You must have made an impression." I shrugged.

"Has he contacted you in any other way?" he asked, his hands strangely stilled against the book, that funny look still on his face. I shook my head.

"Nevertheless, I think he's interested. You have another admirer, my dove." These last words were laced, albeit smoothly, with just a hint of something I couldn't quite detect.

I saw where this was headed, and as much as I hated to admit that it sometimes thrilled me, I didn't want to engage in a jealous, possessive conversation right then. "A little long in the tooth for me, wouldn't you say?" I asked, trying to deflect.

Eric looked amused. "Lover, do you realize how 'long in the tooth' I am?"

"It's different with a human man," I snorted.

"So you think Beau Sinclair is human, Sookie? Hardly." I looked at him quizzically.

"He comes from a long line of oil men. Oil men are notoriously demons," Eric went on. "Ever since the Industrial Revolution. Sinclair's bloodline has been diluted; he's only a fraction demon, but the blood's still there."

"A demon?" I asked incredulously. "That's hard to believe."

"Could you read him?"

"Just a little," I said. "But his mind didn't feel like most Supes. It was highly organized, very left-brained, with all the thoughts in drawers and files."

Eric nodded. "That's how demons think. When they're not tied to the fuel industry, they do very well as CPA's, comptrollers, or contract attorneys," he said. "He has just a streak of demon, like you have a streak of fairy."

"Oh," I said, not knowing what to say to that. "If he contacts you again, I want to know immediately," he said. I rolled my eyes. He stared me down. I nodded, almost imperceptibly. Men!

Eric apparently tired of the subject and picked up the book again. "There is something in here I'd like to show you," he said, his eyes lighting up. He thumbed for a few pages, and then found it. Wordlessly he passed the book to me.

He'd turned to the glossy photo pages and opened a section on the Les Temps des Vampires Vampire Lestat Ball, circa 1998.

There, taking up nearly the entire page, stood Eric in full 18th century dress. Oh. My. God.

He wore an ice blue brocade smoking jacket and vest, ruffled white blouse with wide sleeves, and a broach at his neck, tight pants to his knees, silk white stockings covering those gorgeous calves, and buckled shoes. It was very foppish, almost Oscar Wilde-like attire – and I'm here to tell you, I've never seen anything more masculine in my entire life.

Eric smoldered, his eyes fixed on the camera. He stood in what appeared to be a period-type drawing room, next to an antique table, one hand braced on its surface, leaning slightly forward. Man, those knickers were really tight right around where it mattered in the front. I blushed and looked away, but immediately my gaze returned, captivated. His wavy, curled hair was pulled loosely back, with strands wisping around his face. His eyes bore into me, just like he knew I'd be there and knew what I was thinking. My fingers moved of their own accord to the page, itching to trace the outline of that sculpted jaw.

'The Vampire Lestat as portrayed by Shreveport entrepreneur Eric Northman' the caption under the photo read. Oh my. That photo was radiating heat to the point that I felt like I could warm my hands over it. It was getting really stuffy in that cabin.

"That's really something," I said breathlessly, completely consumed by Eric's full-on eye-fuck at the camera. I didn't feel so tired anymore. "Do you still have that costume?"

He laughed. "I do, somewhere," he said. "It wasn't a costume. That is authentic attire from my pre-Victorian days," he continued. "I just used it for the ball because it was so much better than the cheap rags they wanted me to wear."

Oh shit! Oh shit! I fanned myself a little. "Are you all right, lover?" Eric asked, smirking.

"I think I need a glass of water," I said, and bolted off the sofa for the kitchen.

"I could wear that for you sometime," Eric said in an offhand manner as I returned, but his smile belied his tone. "Would you like that, Sookie?"

"Uh, well, yeah, that'd be all right," I sputtered, taking another sip of my glass. "But you would have to dress up for me too," he said. "Huh," I hedged.

"That bodice ripper outfit you wore on that photo shoot with your cousin Claude," he continued. "Rather inelegant, but it might be the type of dress a street wench would have worn back in the day."

"Really?" I managed to squeak out.

He gave me that same smoldering look from the photo. No kidding. My brain started to feel like scrambled eggs.

"Yes, and if the vampire Lestat was chasing such a wench through the streets of New Orleans at Halloween, and he caught her…."

"Yes," I breathed.

"She might wrap herself wantonly around his body in just such a manner as you did with your _cousin_," he said, "as," he leaned forward here and traced his fingers down my throat to my décolletage, "he took what he wanted."

"Is that very likely to happen?" I hated how flustered I sounded, but damn if I didn't need to know the answer to that question.

Eric sat back and grinned a little. "Halloween is fabulous in the French Quarter," he explained. "They have parties every night for the entire week. I'm sure I could get away for a night of adventure." He deepened his tone, knowing what it did to me, the bastard. My heart pounded a little as I pictured myself running from Eric, me in that peasant top and skirt and him in that outfit, running through the streets, my feet pounding, and being caught –

Oh, lord, being caught.

Eric watched my expression carefully. "Oh, I think it's pretty much a guarantee we'll be making a little trip," he said, and I swallowed. "I'll see about that costume," I said. He looked extremely smug.

That was a few months away, but did I have something to look forward to, I thought as I tried to compose myself. Eric watched me silently, but he seemed highly self-satisfied.

Something niggled at my subconscious, and I realized that I felt a little uneasy about making plans that far ahead of time. "It's June now. Halloween's four months away," I remarked casually.

"Is that an issue?" Eric asked.

I plucked at the accent pillow in my lap. "Well, you know, a lot can happen in that amount of time," I said, pulling at the fringe, my head bent.

Eric watched me narrowly. "I see," he said after a minute. He didn't look so smug anymore. An uncomfortable silence fell between us.

"Well, it's probably a good thing you came over tonight," I said, trying to make conversation. "because tomorrow is most likely shot. There's no telling what kind of mood talking to Minnie will put me in, plus, I'm going to be up all night tomorrow night prepping the dessert for the rehearsal dinner." I was assuming, of course, that the wedding was still on, but I felt pretty confident about it.

Octavia's cousins had insisted on cooking for both the rehearsal dinner and the wedding reception, but Amelia and I had offered to help. The main course was going to be some kind of Southern fusion cooking, a pecan encrusted catfish with a cream corn and red pepper maque choux. It sounded delicious, actually.

I got stuck with dessert duty. And my dish was inspired, if I did say so myself. "I've come up with my own creation." I said proudly. "It's a very special sherbet. Amelia and Octavia both say it's better than sex."

Eric lifted an eyebrow and leaned toward me, stopping his face inches from mine. I held my breath and closed my eyes, taking his closeness in. He smelled incredible. I really hadn't recovered from the Lestat thing and having him this close wasn't helping.

"It begs the question," he murmured huskily. "What kind of sorry excuse for sex are your two girlfriends having," he went on in his darkest, sexiest voice, tracing my fingers lightly with his own, "that it can be topped by a frozen dairy product?"

"This isn't any frozen dairy product," I returned airily – well, as airily as I could without an ounce of breath left in my body after his little assault, that is.

"Tell me about it then," he said with a challenging tone in his voice, sitting back a little. "I should like to hear more about this orgasmic dessert."

Did he really want to hear about a dessert? He seemed to be waiting, so what the heck. I bent forward conspiratorially. He leaned in to meet me ever so slightly, a small smile at the corner of his lips. This could be fun, payback for his teasing before, I thought mischievously.

"I found this fabulous watermelon sherbet in a gourmet store in Shreveport when I was out walking on my lunch break a few weeks ago," I said. "It's beautiful, a real watermelon flavor, not that fake candy taste, and the sherbet has tiny little candy pieces shaped and colored just like watermelon seeds. It's absolutely wonderful." I wondered if he understood what it tasted like. "Do you know what watermelon smells like? Fresh, sweet watermelon in the middle of the summer?" He thought for a minute, and then nodded. "We make watermelon martinis at Fangtasia sometimes," he explained.

"Well, the real thing is much better than that, like real blood is better than synthetic." He nodded. That he could relate to.

"So I knew that sherbet was just too outstanding not to use in some way. I racked my brain for a way to serve it, and I came up with one." I drew up on my knees and Eric continued to regard me somewhat indulgently.

"First thing is to scoop out the sherbet with a big melon baller and place the scoops on cookie sheets. Them I put them back in the freezer until they get really hard.

"Next I melt Ghiradelli dark chocolate and drizzle it all over the little watermelon sherbet bombes. I'll put the sherbet back into the freezer to get really hard again.

"When it's time to serve them I will place the sherbet bombes on the dessert plates and drizzle them with amaretto. And as each one is served, I'll light the amaretto on fire." My eyes widened as I said this last part, and Eric's also widened slightly in response.

"You eat it quickly, then," I whispered, leaning in closely and putting my fingers against Eric's mouth. "The fire warms your lips but doesn't burn them," I murmured. "The chocolate and ice cream melt a little, just around the edges." I drew my fingers lightly down his chin. He raised that damnable eyebrow at me.

"As you hold it in your mouth, it melts a little further and starts to slide down your throat." I brushed both my hands up and down his throat then tapped softly against his windpipe back and forth. "You can feel the warmth, the ice cream and chocolate, with a streak of cold through it, all the way down." Eric's lips parted and his eyes darkened.

"Your mouth is overwhelmed by flavors and sensations; the hot, the cold, the sweet, the watermelon, the alcohol. You struggle for control, but control is not what you need; you need to lose control." I leaned my face against Eric's and felt his eyelashes brush against my cheeks. He drew in an unnecessary breath.

"So you fight it for a moment, but then you let go, and you realize that letting go is good, it's so good, it's _allll gooood_," I shamelessly put all the sex I had into my voice. Eric placed his hand over mine as I continued to run my fingers along his cheek bone and down his neck. He cleared his throat as I touched him there.

"And what time would you be serving this dessert Friday night?" he asked.

I sat back on my heels triumphantly and couldn't help but smirk a little. "About eight, I would say."

"Would it be inappropriate for me to drop by around that time?"

Not at all," I said. "It's my home, and you're my guy, and a guest at the wedding. You'd be very welcome," I purred.

He lifted a corner of his mouth. "And may I bring Pam? I should think she would enjoy watching humans engage in this dessert phenomenon."

"You're both welcome. I've been working on mixing up some of those dessert blood things we talked about, and you can try them," I said, excited by the prospect. He nodded.

We didn't say anything for a minute while he continued to watch me. "Did you drive over here just to get me all worked up?" I asked, flirting a bit.

"I came to see you in the necklace," he said quite charmingly. "I don't have to be rutting after you every second we're together," he added, then leaned over and nuzzled my neck. "I will probably go back to work after you fall asleep. I just wanted to see you for a little while."

I couldn't help but be touched that Eric would drive here from Shreveport and back just to see me for a few minutes, and not try to jump my bones to boot. After all that teasing, that was something to consider, anyway. I felt a little confused. I certainly never knew exactly what to expect from him.

I scanned the cabin, looking for something to do. My eyes lighted on a basket by the sofa.

"Since you want to visit, maybe we'll play a game."

The cabin was still without television by my choice, I found I got more work done there, plus it was nice having a TV-free space; it made me feel virtuous. I did have a selection of board games, and I hunted through the basket looking for the perfect one. "Ah," I said, digging two sets of cards from the bottom. "Let's play this."

Eric leaned over and read the title "Would You Rather?" he asked.

"Yep, I want to play that with you," I said firmly. "You just read the questions out loud and make a choice. It's really very simple. There are ridiculous scenarios, but it can be quite fun. I played it with my roomies the other night and we had a hoot."

He looked dubious. "I'll go first," I offered. I found a card that I thought suited him.

"Would you rather dive into a bathtub full of Heidi Klum's tobacco spit or sleep in a bed crawling with baby cockroaches?"

Eric blinked at me.

"That's ridiculous," he said.

"I understand, but that's the game," I returned patiently.

"I do not care to have cockroaches crawl on me," he said. "But I have been tortured with much worse things." I nodded. "It's hardly significant," he added. I nodded again.

"Tobacco spit is disgusting, and I would not relish putting my head into that type of human secretion." I waited patiently. "Still, it would be a minor inconvenience," he remarked thoughtfully.

"So it's cockroaches or tobacco spit - one you lie in and one you dive in," he stated with a contemplative air.

"Baby cockroaches or Heidi Klum's spit," I qualified.

"I don't see what it being Heidi Klum's has to do with it," he said.

I shrugged. "Because she's hot," I explained. He thought about that for a second and nodded. "She is that," he said slowly, frowning a bit.

"As far as punishment goes, the length of time and recovery periods are the most important issues to consider," he said. "So therefore, I could get out of the tub rather quickly, but sleeping in the bed would be a much longer period of time, and," here he grinned devilishly at me, "it is Heidi Klum's spit.

"I would say I would rather dive into the spit," he concluded with satisfaction.

I sighed. "You're taking this way too seriously."

He laughed. "Pam said that I have been too serious all night," he admitted. "The bar patrons were probably happy that I left." He gave me another one of those looks I couldn't decipher.

"Your turn," he said. He shuffled through the cards and then his eyes lit up.

"Would you rather have sex with the Scarecrow or the Tin Man?"

I snorted. Of course I knew he would find one about sex!

"The Tin Man," I said promptly. He looked at me questioningly. "For obvious reasons, tin being harder than straw?"

"No, pervert. I'm used to heartless men, but the Scarecrow doesn't have a brain. I would never be able to have sex with a stupid man."

Eric smiled widely. "Consider your history, my dear, before you make such a statement," he chortled.

I threw a pillow at his head. He continued to laugh.

I grabbed the cards. "Would you rather spend a year with tiny glass bottles stuck on each finger of one hand," I flipped the card over, "or spend a year with one foot stuck in a bucket?"

"I find that question unacceptable," Eric said after a moment. "Choose another."

"No can do," I stated. "Bottles on fingers or bucket on foot – choose, my Viking."

His eyes narrowed as he regarded me.

"It would never happen," he said. "It's just absurd. An entire year? In which I would have to conduct business in this manner? Vampires do not torture or punish in such a way. I am a warrior," I saw his chest begin to puff up and I sighed. "The situation would never present itself."

"It's a game, Eric. Like the Tin Man and the Scarecrow are going to show up on my front step wanting to hook up one day," I said. "It's supposed to be silly."

He frowned. "Let's say Felipe offered you the choice as a punishment and a humiliation," I offered. "Which would you choose then?"

He looked contemplative. "If Felipe chose to punish me in such a ridiculous and humiliating manner," he said, "I would choose the bucket, as little can be accomplished without the use of one's hands." I smiled and reached for the cards. He pulled them out of my reach.

"But when the year was up I would find a way to destroy him and bring him to his final death for such disrespect. I would then put his remains in the bucket he made me wear, and invite the male patrons of Fangtasia to piss on said ashes on a nightly basis." With this last statement he smiled with a grim pleasure.

I took a deep breath. "All righty, then," I said handing him the cards. "Your turn to pick a question for me."

Eric took a few minutes to shuffle through the cards absently, but I could tell his mind wasn't on it. I sat back and took a sip of wine. Just as I was about to suggest we try another game, he spoke.

"Would you rather lead an unconventional life with a supernatural being who loves you unconditionally?" He paused here and looked me straight in the eyes before continuing, "or would you prefer to waste your mortal years searching for a more human man, who may, or may not, be equipped to give you what you need?"

Bloody hell. My heart leapt into my throat. His eyes continued to bore into my soul. All of a sudden I heard the clock ticking on the wall, a sound I had never registered before.

"I don't think that's on the cards," I managed to answer shakily. Oh, God, that was so lame, I wanted to shoot myself. Eric sat silently, waiting.

"Answer the question, Sookie," he prompted gently, but I felt the words harden a bit around the edges.

"What are you really asking me?" I tried to rally.

"Why are you hesitating?" he countered.

"I'm not." I sounded childish even to myself.

"Oh, but you are my dove, you are." His eyes were like two blue diamond drills. I felt like mud.

"I'm not the only one," I said, jumping to my feet, fists by my side. "And you know it."

He looked away then, and I caught the fleeting expression of utter disappointment that crossed his features, right before he covered it up. It killed me. I reached for his arm. "Eric, I…"

"Shh," he said, standing up and turning toward the bed. Just like that, the moment was over. "It's late, and I have to go back to work tonight," he said firmly. "I came to lie with you until you get to sleep, and that's what I intend to do."

I wanted to talk some more, but I was afraid to try. He kept his word and held me until I relaxed and drifted off. I felt his lips against my hair and tried to forget that look on his face when I failed to answer in time. It haunted my dreams.

I got up and went into the office the next day, mad, frustrated and more than a little hurt. I bent my head over my desk and worked furiously, watching the clock, working myself up. Everything that was wrong with my life kept popping up in my brain. I snapped at Alcide and Lance and everyone in the office soon learned to stay away.

It wasn't all my fault, I told myself grumpily. What did he mean exactly by 'an unconventional life'? Was he equipped to give me everything I need, and did he love me unconditionally? Does anyone ever really get that?

I had a lot of anger and frustration to work through, and I intended to take it all out on my dear Aunt Minnie.

Five o'clock finally arrived and I bolted. I was going to get some answers so I could go on with my life, and I was going to get them today. I didn't call to let her know I was coming; rude, I know, but I wanted to catch her off guard.

I pulled up to Minnie's house forty-five minutes later with determination. I got out, slamming the car door behind me.

Minnie answered the door in a full-length hostess dress from the 70's, a Hawaiian print in royal blue and white flowers. She had her hair pulled back and a silk flower in her hair. She looked great actually, and it was hard not to smile when I remembered how dowdy she'd been dressing just a few months before. I steeled my resolve; I had not come here to be charmed by Minnie.

"Expecting company ?" I asked.

"Not really," she said, smiling rather sarcastically. "Anymore though, with Felipe and Niall, I never know who's going to be knocking on my door."

I stood on the other side of the threshold, my arms crossed over my chest.

"I've come for answers, Minnie," I said firmly as I could. "And I'm not leaving until I have them."

That woman had the unmitigated gall to smirk at me.

"I figured that was why you're here," she said. "What took you so long?"

*********

_**There's a reason for the angst, my friends, do not worry. As always, your thoughts and opinions mean the world to me. I have posted a link to the short story 'Afternoon Tea' on my profile. (It's the one that I have posted on fiction press dot com, you know how you can't post links here) or you can just search 'misscyn2' under authors on that site, I'm the only one**_. _**Take care misscyn**_

**Chapter 44 Teaser**

Minnie stood to the side and let me in. I walked through the door and gave a sigh. It still looked the same, for which I was grateful. I wasn't ready for my aunt's house to be rejuvenated along with her.

"Can I get you a Coke or some iced tea?" Minnie asked solicitously.

"Perhaps a beer or a glass of wine," I conceded. I might need to take the edge off.

She busied herself in the kitchen while I took in my surroundings. Nothing had changed much, except for a strange cloth contraption hanging from the post and beam ceiling in the living room.

"What is that?" I asked her as she returned with my Pale Ale.

"A yoga inversion swing," Minnie said. "Niall bought it in New Orleans for my back."

I looked at her, then quickly down at my hands and swallowed. "No, no, it's not a yoga inversion swing, Minnie."

She looked at me questioningly. I think she was sincerely confused.

"That's a sex swing, Minnie. There's no back support to it. Yoga inversion swings have a little back support."

"Huh," she said thoughtfully. She walked to the swing and lifted it slightly. "These are handles," she said. "And these are-"

"Stirrups," I provided with a groan.


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N** **Greetings and welcome, dear readers, to the chapter of Minnie's revelations. For some reason I feel like I need to remind everyone that this story takes place after Book 8, and does not include any of the events from Book 9. I started it before Book 9 came out and I have written it as if the happenings in that book never took place. I know most of you have been reading a long time and knew that, but I'm saying it again anyway for the new readers who are coming along. Also, this chapter is rather wordy and may even seem plodding in places, but it was necessary to accomplish my goal. Whew. I'm tired. Writing a long-ass convo with scary old aunt, who doesn't need a big bunch of that in their life?**

**Thank you to my hella talented beta Wanda W., who is also making sure my family doesn't starve for the lack of stellar healthy recipes! And thank you dear readers, for all your love and support. I hope to get the next chapter out a little faster *wink* misscyn**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the SVM universe or the Sookie Stackhouse stories. They belong to the enigmatic Charlaine Harris. I do own the rag tag band of characters I've created here, and I'm hopelessly attached to the little shits.**

**Chapter 44**

Minnie stood to the side and let me in. I walked through the door and gave a sigh. It still looked the same, for which I was grateful. I wasn't ready for my aunt's house to be rejuvenated along with her appearance.

"Can I get you a Coke or some iced tea?" Minnie asked solicitously.

"Perhaps a beer or a glass of wine," I conceded. I might need to take the edge off.

She busied herself in the kitchen while I took in my surroundings, the shabby gentility that always reminded me of Gran. Nothing had changed much, except for a strange cloth contraption hanging from the post and beam ceiling in the living room.

"What is that?" I asked her as she returned with my Pale Ale.

"A yoga inversion swing," Minnie said. "Niall bought it in New Orleans for my back."

I looked at her, looked at the swing again and then quickly down at my hands and swallowed. "No, no, it's not a yoga inversion swing, Minnie."

She looked at me questioningly. I think she was sincerely confused.

"That's a sex swing, Minnie. There's no back support to it. Yoga inversion swings have a little back support."

"Huh," she said thoughtfully. She walked to the swing and lifted it slightly. "These are handles," she said. "And these are-"

"Stirrups," I provided with a groan.

"How do you know so much about it?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I just do," I said quickly. "I saw one online." She nodded rather smugly. What can I say, Eric and I had so much fun in the outdoor swing at the cabin, I was thinking of getting something for indoors in cold weather. Just thinking, mind you. I hadn't ordered it or anything, I told myself quite self-righteously.

"Exactly how long have you had it hanging in your living room in front of God and everybody?" My voice rose a bit at the end.

"Since yesterday," she said calmly. "The UPS guy who delivered it helped me put it up." Whoa, I bet that made for some interesting conversations back at the Men in Brown headquarters.

"So Minnie," I said as I sat down on the faded rose-colored velvet sofa. "Start talking."

She sat down across from me with a full glass of Maker's Mark on ice.

"You're in a mood," she quipped.

"Quit stalling." I took a long drink from my beer.

She crossed her legs and sat back, regarding me. "Okay, Sookie. Before vampires came out, what did you think of the possibility of the existence of supernatural creatures?"

"I thought it was all fantasy of course, 'fairy tales', superstitious nonsense, like everyone else."

She gave me a rueful look. "Yet at the same time, you knew you had an ability that went beyond the norm."

I considered this for a minute. "Yes, but I just thought I was weird, an accidental fluke. I never connected it with the possibility of other realms of existence."

She nodded. "Of course you didn't, because Supes had been working for hundreds of years to make sure that you thought that way.

"If you think I'm going to hand you an elaborate depiction of a huge, multi-branched family tree going back to the origins of time and say 'here, Sookie, this split atom is where the telepathy came from,' then I'm sorry to disappoint. I can get you, rather roughly, back several hundred years, and give you somewhat of an idea of where you came from. It is the best I can do.

"Egyptians were aware of magic way back when, and through the Middle Ages there were rumors of supernatural activity, but as the world was just so disorganized and arbitrary in nature nothing ever really came together. Of Course religious heretics were tortured and killed, and often anyone with a special ability was treated as a witch. Science advanced and explained some phenomena, while fantastical stories were created to explain away others. By the 1700's humans and Supes together had convinced the world that all things supernatural were just a figment of the imagination, and scientific study could explain everything else."

I nodded, fully intrigued.

"It took centuries to get those beliefs ingrained in our culture. A mass brain-washing, if you will. So many Supes had come to the New World, hoping that the vast amount of space would give them the opportunity to set up their own little communities. Of course, they sometimes forgot that they couldn't survive without humans. New England became a hotbed of activity. I don't know what the hell was in the water in New England, but for some reason those damn Puritans didn't miss a beat. They knew something was up, but they didn't know what. Mass hysteria ensued."

Minnie swirled the glass, the ice cubes making a tinkling sound.

"I told you all that so I can tell you this: you are a direct descendant of Naomi Harvey, a Quaker who narrowly missed persecution in 1656 in New England as a witch and religious heretic. Ms. Harvey, Sookie, was a telepath.

"It took me years to get this information together, many weekend trips all over the country. Harvey was born in England to a family that was, shall we say, a little dismayed at her gift. By the age of sixteen she was forced to pray constantly as her mother was convinced she had been spawned by the devil and was going straight to hell. Ms. Harvey's parents searched for a convent to take their daughter; the only alternative to a nunnery would have been Bedlam.

"Ms. Harvey, of course, wanted neither. Desperate to get away, she had heard of the New World and the Quaker movement there, facing off against the Puritans. The Friends were very forward thinking for the times, Sookie. They did not approve of the Puritans' harsh views, and believed women should be allowed to serve as missionaries as well as men, a novel concept. She visited with known Quaker Ann Austin, who invited her to join her and fellow missionary Mary Fisher on a trip to Boston. Naomi sneaked out of her parents' home during the night, hours before she was to report to a convent, and jumped on a boat headed for America.

"The arrival in the New World, however, did not go well. Mrs. Austin and Miss Fisher were grabbed from the boat, beaten, stripped and searched for signs of witchcraft by members of the Puritan government. They were imprisoned for weeks. Somehow, probably due in part to the telepathy, Naomi got off the boat without getting caught. A sympathizer housed her and got food to the two imprisoned women, who would have starved otherwise.

"Five weeks later Austin and Fisher were released and sent to Barbados; the benefactor also sent Naomi, who was in imminent danger from the highly suspicious New England state of mind.

"Naomi befriended and ministered to the natives. During that time, it is said she was introduced to voodoo." Minnie paused here to light a cigarette.

"I thought voodoo came from Haiti," I interjected.

Minnie shook her head. "Voodoo exists on all the Caribbean islands as well as in Africa; the majority of the influence is from Haiti, but it exists in Barbados too. Many African and Caribbean religious and magical influences now come under the heading of voodoo. I personally believe Naomi used it as a cover for her telepathy, but we have no way of knowing for sure." The flower behind her ear started to fall and she pulled it out and threw it on the coffee table beside her ashtray.

"Naomi married a sugar cane plantation owner by the name of Cameron Acree in Barbados and gave birth to five children, three of whom inherited the gift. Unfortunately, I could not trace to the two, but I do know that one of Naomi and Cameron's descendants, Audrey Acree Frasier, gave birth to another daughter – my great-grandmother, and Adele's – Lydia Judith Frasier, who somehow ended up in New Orleans during the late 1850's, right on the eve of the Civil War."

This got my attention. Gran spoke of her maternal great-grandmother to me often, but never of the one from her father's side.

"From what I can determine, Lydia was also telepathic. She lived near the docks in New Orleans, ministering to the slaves and freed natives who worked the wharfs. Although obviously Caucasian, she spoke with a native dialect and stayed close to the voodoo culture, again using it as a type of beard as her mother had, and worked as an unofficial nurse to those people. She was very lovely, and held in reverence, as one might a nun or woman of the cloth. But her beauty and white skin in a world of black attracted unwanted attention.

"The fairy population was thriving back in those days - so many forests, so much undeveloped land. The voodoo community interacted with Supes somewhat, just as Native Americans and Weres were closely tied; the island natives knew of the fairies and vampires. A mutual respect existed. Like always, however, someone talked and somehow, the fairies became aware of Lydia's talent. The fae were highly intrigued.

"In short, she became a target. The voodoo priests and priestesses wove powerful magic and tried to protect her, but the much more powerful fairies wanted her, and badly. She had become friends with a colorful one-legged riverboat merchant by the name of John Broach Bennett who had seen her on the wharfs tending to the children of slaves and freed workers. Astonishingly, the charming and accomplished Mr. Bennett gained the trust of the girl, and believed her stories of supernatural happenings. As the Civil War heated up, Lydia came to depend on him more and more.

"He wanted to move her away from the increasingly dangerous atmosphere to keep her safe, but she was stubborn and wouldn't listen to reason from a man who loved her," Minnie gave me a pointed look here that I chose to ignore.

"In a brilliant and daring move Bennett bribed a Confederate naval captain, all but kidnapped Lydia one night, threw her on an ironclad boat and sped down the Mississippi to the mouth of the Gulf and open water with her. They successfully outwitted their opponents as fairies, of course, couldn't get anywhere near that boat. They disembarked at Galveston, an island with loamy sand for soil and very little woods or foliage, extremely unattractive to the fae. Lydia married Mr. Bennett and raised a family there. They stayed there until the Galveston Hurricane of 1900 leveled their home and for all intents and purposes destroyed the island.

"Then in their 70's, the Bennetts and most of their children and grandchildren moved west of Bon Temps on the Texas side. The fairies had by then lost interest and gone on to other things. And some point after that period of time one of her granddaughters, and mine and Adele's mother, Jane Venable Bennett, married our father, Baylor Richard Hale. You can find those names and the rest of the family tree in the Hale family bible you inherited from Adele."

I nodded, taking in all this information slowly.

"At some point the fae interest in developing telepathic offspring resumed. I was thirty-five when Niall found me, the summer after the whole debacle with Felipe and the fifty grand in Las Vegas. He knocked on my door and introduced himself as an old family friend; he was a gentleman, expressing an interest in me, very sophisticated, a man of means."

She lifted an eyebrow at me. "The pointy ears did give me pause," she said wryly. "But at first I just thought they were some weird kind of birth defect."

I couldn't help but snicker a bit at that.

"We were elbows deep in our affair and I was head over heels in love when he told me he was a fairy and wanted a child. He also confessed to knowing of my telepathy before I met him, which devastated me almost as much as the Supe revelation. I knew less of the supernatural world than you do – remember, even the vampires were still living under cover.

"He never offered to marry me, only said that he wanted a child and that he would raise it properly himself, and that he had lots of family to help. Birth control wasn't that great in the fifties, no pill remember. I took precautions, and secretly hoped that his age made him sterile, silly woman that I was. I'm sure that now that he was doing everything possible to increase his fertility, I'm lucky he didn't knock me up with quintuplets," Minnie's voice became decidedly bitter.

"I named my son Porter, an old family name on my father's side. I kept the pregnancy a secret, wearing big, bulky clothes in the winter. The last six weeks of my pregnancy I faked a nervous breakdown – they were all the fashion back then - and went to a house in Arkansas with a nursemaid that Niall set up for me. Everyone here and at my job though I was in some kind of an asylum. Given my history, it wasn't that farfetched.

"When the baby was two months old Niall came to the house and took the child. He assured me I would be able to see him. There was no point in trying to fight him. He was too powerful, and besides, I wasn't cut out for motherhood and I had no real support system, it just wasn't practical. He offered to keep me up in the house, but I declined. I wasn't his mistress, and the whole thing with the baby left a sour taste in my mouth. I just wanted to come back home, curl up and die."

She said this matter of factly, drawing on her cigarette.

"Porter took to the fairy realm quite well. As promised, Niall brought him to visit several times a year. He was an intensely beautiful child. I frankly didn't know how Niall and I were his parents. Unlike Dermot and Fintan, Niall's other half-human children, his fairy side seemed to take over. If you didn't know better, you would assume he was full-fairy. He had green eyes and auburn hair and the most striking bone structure, a big fella, six two. His ears slightly pointed. And, most importantly, he had the gift, had it ferociously. He could even read other fairies, which complicated matters for both he and Niall exponentially.

"As he grew older it became apparent that he hated his human side and was embarrassed by me as a mother," she sat up straighter as she said this. "Niall suffered during his teenage years; the boy seemed nearly bi-polar or something, always angry, always getting into trouble even in the fairy realm, which is supposed to be a peaceful place.

"He stopped coming to see me by the time he was about twenty-five, denying my existence. It broke my heart, but I knew I had been burned by Supes again and I just needed to let it alone. Truth of the matter is, the boy hadn't been mine from the day I handed him to Niall in a pale blue onesie and a yellow duckie blanket." Her voice caught again. I leaned over and tried to pat her hand, but she brushed me away.

"I heard stories through Niall. Porter became dangerous. He took up with a dark faction of fairies, even darker than Dermot's homies. He began to try to propagate his own line of fairies, a telepathic, master race in his mind, and impregnated two young fairies and a human within a few months of each other. Both the fairies miscarried and the human child, a girl named Andrea, did not inherit the gift.

"Niall was very aware of his son's shenanigans at this point. Not long after that he sent Fintan to meet my little sister. It was a long shot for him because Adele was not telepathic, but he was desperate to hold his own against Porter's faction, and she was the last of the line. By the time I found out it was too late, she was already pregnant with Corbett.

"I was past despair and crazy with guilt. I had given up my own son and now Niall had found a way to ruin my baby sister's life. Harsh words were spoken. I told Adele she had been sucked in and seduced just like me, and would lose her children to Niall the same way I lost my child, but she swore Fintan was different, that he would not let his father take the children.

"As time went on she thought that since neither Corbett nor Linda had the gift, she was somewhat safe. I knew that the gene was carried whether the telepathy was passed on or not, but she would not listen to me. My relationship with Adele started falling apart, but we still kept in touch. We did both hope against hope that we were safe, that the telepathy had perhaps finally been bred out."

She looked at me the ruefully.

"And then you came along," she said with a small smile, "and everything went all to hell." I took a deep breath, balancing my now-empty beer bottle on my knees.

"You were a highly unusual infant. Corbett suspected something – he had always suspected something - but wanted to keep your mother, Lily, clueless. She just thought she had this very smart, very alert baby girl. And she loved you Sookie, so much, but she knew you were different, and she was a little jealous of Corbett's attention to you. You were his little princess."

I smiled a little sadly; none of this was news to me. I had always been the apple of my father's eye and I could feel my mothers' resentment, even though I knew she loved me.

"As soon as you started to talk you let on that you knew more than was being said. I was holding you one day when you were maybe 18 months old while I was thinking about baking a cake – and I hadn't said a word - when you tapped me on the forehead and said quite clearly, "Chok'lit Min-min. Sookie want chok'lit cake."

She snorted loudly. "I nearly dropped your little ruffled butt on the floor right then.

"I talked to your grandparents. Fintan knew. Adele tried to deny it but deep down she knew, too. Finally she told Corbett about his history and Niall. He took it pretty well; like I said before he had always suspected something was off. Your mother was just too hysterical about the subject to deal with it, so we had to leave her somewhat out of the loop. Fintan started working on that cabin right away, putting up the shields, badgering his father for more protection, while at the same time insisting that you and Jason stay in the human world.

"And even though Niall protested, no one wanted another Porter," she whispered. "So we waited." She stubbed out her cigarette slowly.

"Poor Corbett broke my heart. He didn't know what to do, didn't understand so much, but wanted to take some kind of a stand. He started buying up all the iron scrap within a fifty mile radius, scrounging through construction and demolition sites. He had a pile of iron rebar in the yard at the cabin and down at the house at least five feet tall. He reminded me of a little boy with a sling shot and a pile of rocks, getting ready for a brawl with the neighborhood bullies. Not like my son at all," her face clouded.

"My son was devious, dark, and brilliant. The winter you were three Niall and Fintan were caught up in a fae gathering north of Dublin. He left precautions in place but we had grown complacent after so long without any news, and Porter seemed to have settled down. That's when he struck. I was at my house when I got the call from Adele "Something's wrong," she said, "I can feel it," and the phone went dead.

"No cell phones back then, you know. And of course Niall was nowhere near a land line. Buried in the hills somewhere in Ireland, I could not reach him.

"Mitchell, Corbett and Jason had gone fishing for the weekend. Lily was visiting her family, and Adele was babysitting you when she got an odd feeling, a certain charge in the air. After she hung up on me she grabbed you with one hand and a cast-iron skillet with the other and started running for the cabin. She made it halfway up the trail.

"The fairies set the woods on fire both to burn the cabin and to mask their scent. But it was November and torrential rains had soaked the forest, making the burn difficult. The creek was high as she ran with you. She always told me she would never forget the smell of the fire as she ran toward it, the crackling of the brush, and the rush of the creek."

I startled, remembering my vision from when Minnie had projected it to me some time back. The smell of fire, the crackling of wood, the rush of water. I felt a little light headed.

She looked at me questioningly, but I motioned for her to continue.

"I was on my way but I was too late. When I got there I found Dermot holding Adele on the ground; she was still swiping at him, and holding him back pretty well, I must say, with that damn cornbread skillet," Minnie chuckled then.

"Not ten seconds later Niall and Fintan appeared. Fintan jumped Dermot and got him off Adele; she screamed that Porter had taken you.

"Just as Niall started to pop out after Porter I grabbed a piece of Corbett's rebar from the pile in the yard and hopped on his back. We were flying to the fairy realm.

"You know what fairy popping feels like Sookie? It's like riding the world's fastest roller coaster on a crisp October night. The air turns cool and misty and you travel through it at the speed of light. As we approached the realm I heard a bell tolling; it meant that they were closing the portal before we could get there. Niall doubled his pace and I nearly passed out from lack of oxygen. We landed in the portal just as the door closed. And Porter appeared standing before us, you still in his arms."

My heartbeat started thrumming in my ears. It all came back, the mental images Minnie projected at me that night in the car, the dreams I'd had all my life. The crackling of the forest fire burning, the rush of the storm-swollen creek, the feel of flying through the cool misty air, and that bell ringing in the distance. Suddenly my mind's eye flashed to a face above me as I was carried in the vision, a masculine, beautiful, frightening face, full of hard green eyes, a cruel mouth and wild, wind-whipped hair. Porter. My chest crumpled in on itself as the long dormant memory ripped through me. I felt like someone poured concrete in my lungs.

"He threw you to the ground like you were a sack of potatoes. I heard Niall roar. You never cried, just watched the whole thing with big, sad eyes. They were circling around each other, sparking light everywhere. I didn't have much time, they were yelling and any minute they would have turned into those damn orb things and I could do nothing. Niall was full fairy, but Porter was so young and strong. He could have gotten lucky.

"I looked my child in the eyes. He'd gone completely mad, all traces of humanity gone. He had one goal and he would destroy anyone or anything in his way, even his own father. He would kill Niall, probably me too, and God only knows what he was going to do with you."

Minnie stared at her lap and took a deep breath.

"I only had a few seconds to react. I snuck up behind Porter. Niall saw me and his eyes widened; he knew what I was going to do. And just as he turned his head and his gaze met mine for the last time, I stabbed my only child in the back with that piece of rebar."

Minnie looked like she was going to lose it there for a minute, her face crumbled. She took a huge, trembling breath. I sat frozen.

"Apparently I lost consciousness after that. They said I became catatonic. I woke up in the hospital five days later, when it was all over.

"Niall never faulted me, but I blamed myself, for so many things. I decided right then and there to go home and become an old lady. It took all the fire out of me for some time.

"Five years later Dermot and Porter's colleagues came back for revenge. They thought you were with your parents the night of the flash flood. That night, Adele just happened to take you and Jason to the cabin before anything started. You survived again, Sookie."

She looked sharply at me then.

"Now don't go blaming yourself, because I won't have it. I was saving my own skin and Niall's to boot. I know your propensity for guilt, and I'm not putting up with any of that garbage."

It all started clicking into place, all the missing pieces for all these years. I started feeling a little faint.

"Don't you do it," Minnie said, in exactly that same tone Eric used that night so long ago when he told me of Bill's transgressions with Lorena. I weaved a bit.

"It's too much," I said weakly, waving my hand for her to stop. Of course, she paid no attention.

"But now we have you and Hunter. He and Porter were the only male telepaths in the family I have ever learned of, and it scares me. Hunter is a very special boy." Minnie ran her hand back and forth over the surface of the marble side table almost absently, but I could see in her eyes she was struggling with something.

"There's a little more," Minnie said finally, looking slightly chagrined. "Porter's daughter Andrea has been MIA for quite some time. Niall has reason to believe," here she glanced at me again, "that she's in the human world, and that she's looking for you, and possibly Hunter as well."

And with that, after what seemed an almost endless soliloquy, Minnie fell silent.

*******************

**Really Long Ending A/N I obviously take a lot of artistic liberty, but I do like my story to at least be based in fact and seem plausible, or the readers 'spell' (or 'suspension of disbelief' is what I think they called it in school) is lost. Besides, it's not near as much fun to write nonsense as one might think.**

**So, to clarify things; According to my research, Ann Austin and Mary Fisher were indeed Quakers who visited Boston in 1656 as missionaries to the New World. The two women were strip-searched, imprisoned, and nearly starved for several weeks; they were snuck food, however, by a prison guard who had been bribed by a local man to do so. They were then sent to Barbados, where they both resided for some time. Naomi Harvey is a 17th century ancestor of mine. She did immigrate to the Americas from England, but she landed in Virginia, not Boston, and was not a Quaker to my knowledge. I figure she's my kin, so I can do what I want with her. The other ancestral names are fictional.**

**The Hurricane of Galveston hit in 1900 and is, according to Wikipedia (yeah, I know, but I love me some Wikipedia, I guess that makes me intellectual white trash) the deadliest natural disaster to ever strike the United States, killing more than four times as many people as Katrina. I used to work in Galveston in the summers when I was in high school, and my favorite uncle still lives down there and serves up deep fried seafood po boys and gumbo to the beach goers every year. Anyway, as many storms as those folks have there and people still talk about the 1900 hurricane. It was a real corker.**

**'Ironclad' vessels during the Civil War included not only the well-documented handful of battleships; any type of sea-worthy vessel, including steamboats, were often armored with sheets of iron once the fightin' commenced. Hey, when I was looking up Civil War ironclads one article had a blurb about how the practice started with the Vikings, who often covered their ships in iron the same way. Huh. Small world.**

**All of your questions, such as 'How could Mitchell Stackhouse be so damn stupid that he didn't know all that fairy shit was going on?', 'Why would Minnie get in a sex swing with Niall after he pulled that crap on her with her kid, not to mention the stuff with Adele?' or 'How did that Bennett dude lose his leg, anyhow?' and of course, 'Where the hell is Eric? This is supposed to be an Eric/Sookie fic, not a semi-accurate historical documentary, damn it' will be addressed in the next chapter. Well, maybe not all those questions, but some of them. Definitely some.**

**And just FYI, last Christmas I went to the home of my real-life scary old aunt (those of your who keep up with my profile rant know her as 'my biotch aunt') and that woman had a sex swing mounted in the middle of her deadgum living room just like Minnie, right next to the Christmas tree. She tried to give me that yoga inversion crap too. Right. At least the freaking thing was red and matched the holiday decorations. The kids played on it while my sister and I threw away the eggnog so we could justify drinking the bourbon straight. We laughed our asses off. Ho Ho, Scary Aunt, Ho Ho. Of course this was mere hours before said aunt informed me I was ruining my children's lives by being a fat ass, but we won't get into that here.**

**I am way mega verbose, and will sign off now. As always, your thoughts and comments mean the world to me. Seriously, they do. Take care, misscyn**

**PS I will be posting spoiler(s) for upcoming chapters on my profile nearly every week from now on, so check it out. I've decided that this practice may help keep me honest. *snicker* Just maybe.**

**PPS My maiden name is Bennett, and my bff back in my newspaper days is named Lydia, and I didn't put the two together with Pride & Prejudice (Lydia Bennet with one T) until a reviewer pointed it out. I read P&P years ago, but it's not something I think about often; however, my subconscious is a huge, convoluted, wildass place, so who knows what I was thinking. I just wanted to point out that I did not use the name by design. :)**

**11/18 I am mortified because a reviewer had to point out to me that I spelled 'chagrined' wrong, with two n's, after three thousand hits and more than eight hundred visitors yesterday! I felt better, though, when I found out that it can be spelled both ways, but still I spelled 'soliloquy' wrong the first day I posted it, and hundreds of people saw it that way too before I fixed it! I thought I had lost my mind, and went back and ran spell check on the Word 2007 document again, and it didn't pick it up! Why wouldn't spell check catch that? GRrrrr so sorry guys!**

**Chapter 45 Teaser! This is a rough cut!**

"..I bought the clownfish for Berta to have a mate. I bought the pygmy angelfish because he's so magnificent and he was crowded in his tank at that shop. But if Berta likes the angelfish better, then it's her business." I pressed my lips together as I looked at Eric.

"It doesn't make any sense," he said evenly. "She can't mate with the angelfish."

"She'll do what she wants to do, you can't control it." I folded my arms across my chest as I spoke.

"I can take that angelfish out of the tank if she becomes obsessed with him," Eric returned stridently. Somebody's injuries were making them a little grumpy, apparently.

"Why would you do that? If she wants to be with him, if he makes her happy, why would you interfere? She knows what she wants better than you do," My voice rose several octaves. We were on a slippery slope, and if I had any sense I would have shut up, but since when have I ever done the prudent thing where Eric is concerned?

"If I make an executive decision, then that decision will stand," Eric stated in a tone that brooked no argument. I, of course, paid him no heed. I closed the distance between us and poked him in the chest with my index finger.

"Who died and made you God? What makes you think you know anything about matters of the heart, especially where a female is concerned?"

Eric's eyes flew wide and filled with rage as his jaw clinched. "Remove your finger from my chest this instant," he growled in a tone I have rarely heard. "Before I do something we will both regret."

**11/27 Chapter 45 is at the beta's! Will post as soon as I get it back!**


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N I finished this chapter in ten days instead of three weeks, guys, so cheers for me! I have been gently chastised in pm's and I'm trying to do better. I doubt if I'll ever get back to the weekly updates, but I'm still shooting for a January finale, so I'm trying to keep them coming a little faster. Thank you to Wanda W., beta and friend extraordinaire. Seriously, she works like the devil just for the joy of the job and I don't know what I would do without her. Also thanks to nycsnowbird who inspired a major theme in this chapter with her Mac Daddy reviews! I know the last chapter was rather heavy, it had to be done, but this one is a bit lighter. See you at the bottom of the page, misscyn**

**Chapter 45**

I stared at Minnie for a few minutes while she stared back. I gradually became aware of the sun setting and the shadows falling across the picture window of her living room. A dog barked from across the street, and a couple of kids could be heard as they laughed and played a few houses down. Very close by, a screen door creaked open and then a minute later slammed shut. How I loved the sound of one of those old screen doors, I thought absently. They always remind me of home.

Except my idea of what home meant, of who my family was, what it represented, would never, ever be the same.

Minnie began to look a little alarmed. "Sookie? Are you okay?" she asked. "You look like you may be in shock, girl. Do you want a shot of liquor?"

I shook my head to bring myself out of my stunned reverie and tried to connect to the here and now. I finally found my voice.

"I don't know if I can take anymore," I whispered. "Is there anymore? Is that everything?"

Minnie nodded. "That's just about everything I know, save a few details here and there," she said.

"How could my grandfather – my human grandfather, Mitchell - how could he not have known what was going on, when the woods were set on fire, and all that had happened when Porter died?"

Minnie grimaced. "Fintan helped Adele cover it up really well. She told Mitchell lightning struck during the storm and started the fire. The rest of the chaos she managed to hide."

I snorted. "That was a real 'Prince of Tides' accomplishment on her part," I said a little snidely, then chided myself for speaking ill of the only person whose love I could ever really count on growing up.

It didn't seem to bother Minnie. "Fintan helped her clear away any signs of the conflict. His wards kept the fire from getting too close to the cabin, so Mitchell wasn't that upset." She reached for her glass. "Watching that fire burn in a circle around the cabin, right up to the edge of the wards, was something to see."

I thought about the circle of moss that surrounds the cabin and shivered. "And my mother?"

Minnie appeared to weigh her words carefully before speaking. "We never really knew how much Corbett told you mother, but we were fairly sure she didn't want to know everything. Ostrich with its head in the sand, you know what she was like." Yes, I did.

"Things went back to normal fairly quickly after Porter died. After a few years we were lulled into a false sense of security. Mitchell eventually got rid of all that iron scrap, saying it was a hazard to you kids playing around.

"And, well, you know what happened when your folks were killed." She looked at me with sad eyes then.

I sat quietly, trying to absorb all the information. "So you never made a supernatural connection with the telepathy?"

She shook her head. "No, like I said, I traced back to 1656, but found only human connections. I'm sure I could go back farther, but really, it's good enough for me, Sookie." I nodded.

"So basically, the trait has been passed for centuries. So far it appears to be a human trait, although anything's possible; it is carried by both males and females, although it manifests itself in women more often than men. And Supes, especially fairies, find it extremely compelling and have been hunting us and our ancestors for hundreds of years," I summarized.

"That's about the gist of it," she concurred.

"Huh," I returned eloquently. "I'll have some more questions eventually, but I believe I have a lot to think about now."

"I'd say so," she finished her drink and set the glass down. I stood up and walked to the kitchen so I could throw my beer bottle away.

"Are you okay to drive?" she asked. I pondered for a second. "Yes, but I don't know where to go. I really don't want to stay in the cabin tonight after hearing the story; it would just be weird to be up there alone. And at the house, well, it's going to be crazy with Amelia and Octavia getting ready for the rehearsal, and I don't know if I can deal with that just yet either." I looked at my hands, feeling suddenly awkward.

"I may go see Eric, " I muttered.

Minnie smiled. "You know Sookie, I had some harsh things to say about your choice in boyfriends before I knew Pam, but after getting to know her I have become somewhat of a fan of the Viking," she said.

"That seems to be going around," I said dryly, thinking of Octavia. The man charmed all my crotchety old biddies.

I hesitated before I spoke again.

"And you and Niall?"

She looked away. "It may seem strange to you Sookie, but Niall and I have a history. We had a child together and we lost a child together. It's a connection. At my age I don't want to start over with a new guy. And Niall –well , Niall to a certain extent, can't help who or what he is. I know what I'm getting into, believe me." Minnie looked every bit her age then, and I realized how much this conversation had taken out of her. She'd done more, given me more information than anyone else in my family ever had, and she'd put aside her normally acerbic and snarky personality to do it. I did feel grateful, even in my slightly dazed state.

I nodded. "I get it," I stated simply. We shared a clumsy hug, and I walked to my car. I sat in the driver's seat for a few minutes, gripping the steering wheel. All the history had been a lot to take, and I still felt a little shell-shocked. It was crazy to drive back to Shreveport but I felt a force pulling me there, and it wasn't the bond. I started the car and headed for the interstate.

I tried to absorb all that had transpired in that conversation as I drove, tried to make sense of the reeling in my head, all the mental images. The people who were dead and gone interested me, but were not my immediate concern. My actions regarding Hunter were about to become tremendously important. I wanted to help him, protect him all I could, and I felt a pang of guilt for my lack of assistance to him so far. This Andrea I also needed to learn more about, and fairly soon.

The crazy house of cards that had come to represent my memories had just been taken down again, perhaps this time for good. It came to me with much surprise that I didn't care. I didn't fully understand it, but the fact is that, for some reason, I knew it just didn't matter.

Because when Minnie revealed the past she took from me this emptiness and need, this searching for truth, this feeling that something was being hidden from me - and all the years and years of secrets and lies. I felt the weight of all that flotsam lifting from my shoulders, blowing behind me in the wind as I steered down the road and kept my foot on the gas. I felt wild, loose, exhilaratingly, nearly hysterically unburdened. Because I wasn't alone, wasn't a freak or a fluke of nature. I was one of a long line of women blessed with this little curse. It was in my blood, inherent, and even though I kinda figured it that way before, now I knew for sure. I knew. I knew the truth, and the truth damn well set me free.

Waves of euphoria washed over me. My mind opened and my chest expanded; I became certain I knew exactly how the Grinch felt when his heart grew three sizes that day. I smiled so wide my lips dug into my gums and laughed, really belly-laughed, as I careened on the asphalt - I'm surprised a fellow driver didn't call the highway patrol!

But even as I floated, as weightless and free of my past as a hot air balloon minus its tether, I knew I wanted something solid to hold onto, someone I could count on. All signs pointed to a very large and undead ancient being I'd become hopelessly, helplessly attached to over the past few months.

An undead being who right now was not real happy with me. I knew how badly I'd let him down the night before, just because I felt put on the spot with the game question. I choked, I could admit it now. I didn't know if he would want to see me tonight, but I definitely wanted to see him. Everything Minnie laid on me had sent me reeling. But the longer I sat in that car, the more I realized that none of it made any difference at all.

My ancestors tried to live conventional lives and love humans, and I'm sure that was rough as hell. I didn't have to suffer like they did. I had the perfect man, the most maddening, infuriatingly, gorgeously perfect man for me, whose mind I couldn't read, who I had a blood bond with, who got me, and I got him. I could not imagine being with anyone else. Growing older together – now that was a challenging idea, but right then it didn't daunt me – because I had no choice, I realized, and I nearly laughed out loud. Finally I understood. It was a good thing, a really, really good thing.

It wasn't a question of who I would prefer - and then I realized that this concept was part of what had disturbed me when he asked me that question during the game. Who would I prefer - Eric or another man, another being? What kind of question is that? I wasn't picking out a paint color for my bedroom, for God's sake, I wasn't shopping for a new pair of jeans. I had no choice to make.

He'd become my family, my home, and by God, he showed up, pretty much whenever I needed him. All this other shit was just history. And just like that, it all clicked. I fought back tears of happiness as I took the last exit to Shreveport. I glanced at my watch, eight-thirty; Eric wouldn't be at work for a little while.

I wanted to bring him a present, a peace offering, a gesture of sentiment. I pulled into the mall and headed for an aquatic shop. I'd been thinking of doing this in the back of my mind for a while.

A clerk approached me. "What can I do for you today?" the fresh faced young man smiled. "I need a mate for a female clownfish," I said. "An orange and white one." He helped me look at the tank and picked out a lovely male, similar to Berta in appearance. Pleased, I waited while he netted the fish and instructed me on how to introduce him to the tank. As I was waiting I wandered around the shop and spotted another salt water tank, somewhat crowded. One particularly stunning fish stood out, a blue with yellow markings, a little larger than the rest. It looked miserable, pushing along amongst all the other fish.

"Is that a male or female?" I asked, pointing at the fish. "Male," the clerk said barely glancing at the tank. "Blue tang. That one's got a lot of presence. He dominates the tank."

"Do they get along with clownfish?"

"Very well," he said. "Did you see _Finding Nemo_? Dory was a blue tang. Although clownfish are rather homebodies and stay close to the anemone, the blue tang is compatible with them."

"I'll take him," I said on impulse. He was gorgeous, and that small tank did not suit him at all.

I practically skipped out to my car. Ever try to buy a gift for a thousand year old Viking vampire? It's not as easy as you might think. I was sure Eric would like my presents. I figured we could take a break and run them to the condo if he wasn't too busy, or he could just let me do it and I would come back and sit with him for a while.

I walked in the front door of Fangtasia carrying the fish in the bags. I felt like a little kid taking a drawing to my mother, but I didn't care how funny it looked, not really.

Pam stopped me at the bar. She had on a black cat suit, sleeveless with a low scoop neck and Capri length leggings. Over it she wore an extra sheer black trench coat type top with a wide belt. The garment was gossamer light in weight and completely see through, the bottom of it flaring out like a skirt. She wore her hair up in a Grace Kelly-like twist, and a diamond pave' studded choker, similar to one you might find on a very fancy feline, around her neck. She looked fabulous, of course. Although all the black certainly went with the bar motif, I detected something a little less hardened about her demeanor than normal.

"You look nice, Pam," I observed.

"Thanks," she said, toying with her collar. "I'm meeting Lance for drinks later," she raised her eyebrows suggestively. I let it go.

She looked at my fish and frowned. "Did you kill Berta?"

I gasped. "Why no," I said indignantly. "Why would I do that? I bought her a boyfriend." I held up the bags.

"And a spare," Pam purred, admiring the tang. "Well, the way trouble courts you Sookie, I figured you were replacing your competition over at the condo." I rolled my eyes.

"Eric's not here," she said.

"I know, I saw his car was missing. When is he coming in?" I asked breathlessly. "I need to get these in his tank."

"He's not coming in. He's already been here and gone," she said. "A couple of punk FOTS kids had a blow torch out behind the dumpster, melting cheap silver jewelry. They threw the molten silver on him as he entered the building and burned his neck and upper torso."

All my breath left my lungs and I nearly dropped the fish. "Is he okay?"

"It covered a large area, but the burns weren't deep and the silver didn't get into his blood stream," Pam said. "We talked to Dr. Ludwig, who said he would be fine probably by tomorrow or the next day."

"How were they able to sneak up on him like that?" I asked, still flabbergasted. It just wasn't like Eric to be caught unaware.

"I don't know, but I got the impression he was distracted," Pam said, and I suddenly though of the silver nets and the rednecks at the convenience store that time after Jackson. Pam gave me a pointed glance and my gaze faltered. Did she know about last night?

"We tried to reach you but got no answer," Pam said.

"Oh, no," I said with a start. I had muted my phone when I was with Minnie, intent on getting as much as I could out of her without interruption. I never cut it back on.

"He needed blood, real blood, and wanted you to be the donor," Pam said. "We couldn't find you. He took as much as he could from the FOTS trash, but it wasn't enough so he had to feed from one of the fangbangers. We glamoured her, of course."

I nodded. Certainly I could understand that. Pam said 'her.' I looked around the bar, wondering who she was in spite of myself. Pam smirked, so I turned my gaze quickly back to the bar, becoming suddenly fascinated in the grain of the wood. I pushed my jealousy aside as I continued to worry about Eric.

"Still, did he get any treatment? Is blood enough? How do we know he's okay?" I could feel myself starting to panic.

"Dr. Ludwig is meeting him at his home," Pam said. Her demeanor softened a bit when she saw my anxious expression. "He will heal, Sookie. I would not have let him leave if I didn't believe that."

I probed the bond but got only a dull, masked sensation in return. "I can't feel him," I whispered.

"He probably muted the bond so you wouldn't feel his pain," she said casually. "It was pretty intense."

I swallowed. As many times as I'd seen Eric hurt, I knew melted silver would be more painful than anything I had witnessed before. I looked down at the floor, unable to think of anything to say.

"As luck would have it, when he got inside he found this note some male left for you," she pointed to a white envelope on the bar. I noticed my name and a Sinclair Oil emblem on the return address.

"Quite a looker that one," Pam said with a smirk. "I got to talk to him a minute before he left. Said he stopped by your work. Alcide suggested he might catch you if he dropped by here." She ran her hand over her jacket. "I managed to run him off before Eric arrived, but he insisted on dropping you a line." I tried to nonchalantly slide the envelope in my pocket.

"Oh no, you don't," she said, grasping my hand. "Read it." I twisted my hand away.

Reluctantly I opened the envelope and pulled out the note inside.

_**Ms. Stackhouse,**_

_**I am in Shreveport on business and tried to see you before you left work for the day but you were already gone. Please contact me at the below cell phone number or email address. I sincerely wish to speak with you,**_

_**Beau Sinclair**_

Pam leaned forward and tried to read over my shoulder. I waved the note in her face. "Read it, I don't care," I snipped. She grabbed it and perused the words, then handed the note back to me.

"I have heard that demons have huge testicles," she remarked thoughtfully. "I always thought it a literal observation, but it appears it may be figurative as well."

"There's nothing going on between me and Beau Sinclair," I stated.

"Look, Sookie," Pam said, speaking slowly and carefully, all former traces of softness gone. "My master is not in the best of – humors – at the moment. We had to send him home because we didn't want the customers to see him in a weakened state. He is distressed that he wasn't paying any attention when he was attacked, and also," here she glared at me a bit, "it appears he has something personal on his mind. So I would appreciate it if you would leave off with your drama, and leave him be, to heal and to think things through, calm down."

I huffed. "He wouldn't leave me be if I was hurt and distressed," I pointed out. "You can't keep me from him. Besides," I held up the bags beseechingly, "I have to get these fellas in the tank!"

She tapped her fingers on the bar. "I think you should let Eric alone for a while, Sookie."

I wanted to see that his injuries were mild for myself and I needed to tell him about Minnie, plus what about the fish? "But ... " I held up the bags and looked at Pam pleadingly.

"He needs to heal and take of himself, Sookie," she spoke slowly, enunciating her syllables. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"I can take care of him," I said defiantly.

"Really? Because this isn't about you," she countered.

I glared at her. "Out with it, Pam. Got something on your mind?"

"Yes I do, Sookie," she said, baring her teeth just a bit. "For an incredibly bright human, you are unerringly stupid where my master is concerned. And I am tired of it. Minnie called and told me everything she told you while you were on the road. I don't want you laying all that on him just yet."

I squared my shoulders. "I need to see his injuries for myself, and I'm going to see Eric tonight," I ground out between my teeth. "I pity anyone who tries to stop me."

Pam made an irritated sound. "Fine. Go over there, put the fish in the tank, but don't wind him up, Sookie, I'm warning you. I will be very unhappy if you add to his black mood."

I considered making another sarcastic comeback and then decided against it. Just as I turned to the door Pam called after me.

"We're still on for the wedding, right?" She asked. "The Britlingens will be here tomorrow. They are staying with me. I have procured them both gowns and proper footwear." She smiled cattily.

"Sure, we're on." I said quickly, and then turned once again to the door. She called after me again.

"Yes, the shoes presented a problem. I had to special order the sizes. I got them each two pair. One pair of sandals and one pair of size-minimizing sling-back pumps. I have to choose which one to give them by Saturday," she looked up at me from under her lashes.

I frowned. "But you said you would have them wear sandals – for the joke against Eric."

She nodded. "I did say that. And I will, as long as you cause my master no pain between now and the wedding," she smiled again.

"I never deliberately hurt Eric, Pam," I snapped. She shrugged. "Deliberate or not, it seems to happen on a regular enough basis. And I have had about enough." She leaned closer and looked me in the eye. "Do you have any idea what you have, what you hold in the palm of your hand? Do you realize how vulnerable he makes himself for you?"

"Well, yes, Pam I do," I shot back. "As a matter of fact, I was thinking about that on the way over here."

"Too little, too late," she muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she said. "You know, over the years Eric has had the opportunity to carry on flirtations with the female counterparts of several different species, particularly when we have had cause to travel to other dimensions. I'm looking forward to the Britlingen session, myself. But if I were you," she smiled broadly and winked, "I might consider hedging my bets."

I drew my eyebrows together. Female counterparts of other species? What the hell did that mean? I got a mental image of Eric caught up in an intimate embrace with the big blue Diva thing from that Bruce Willis movie _The Fifth Element_, her cerulean head tentacles wrapping themselves around his massive forearms. I blinked and shook my head.

"Quit trying to piss me off, Pam," I snapped.

"Oh but you've already managed to piss me off, I'm just returning the favor," she hissed. I flipped her the bird with my free hand. She sighed.

"Fine, Pam, fine." I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Eric. No answer. Pam smiled. "I'm just going to go over there and put the fish in the tank and check on my man's injuries if you don't mind." She smiled again, showing her fangs.

I collected myself and walked out the door to my car. I settled the fish on the passenger seat and headed for Eric's. I became a little nervous on the drive. I had never gone over there unannounced, even though I did have codes, and Eric wasn't answering his cell phone.

I parked my car in the garage and entered the elevator with the fish. I managed the codes okay there and went to Eric's front door. I knocked softly, then entered the code and pushed the door open. All I could see inside the condo was dark. I reached for the light switch and heard a slight whooshing sound, right before a large, cold hand pinned me up against the wall by my throat.

"What have we here?" a hoarse voice I hardly recognized rasped. The fingers tightened on my neck.

"Eric, it's me," I choked out. "Sookie."

The hand released immediately and a light flicked on. Eric's face came into view, fangs fully down and body in full attack mode. When I looked closer, however, I saw that he looked pale, wan and sick, with hollowed eyes and weariness etched into his features. My heart hurt at the sight of him.

"Lover," he intoned. "I did not feel you. Are you all right?" I nodded and tried to pull away. Eric looked too tired to be remorseful, and turned and headed for the couch with slumped shoulders. A laptop graced the coffee table and spreadsheets littered the surrounding floor. He'd carried some pillows from the bedroom and piled them on the cushions for a type of makeshift bed, but no blanket. Vampires never remember the blanket.

He was wearing black sweat pants and a loose gray t shirt. I could see a horrible looking burn that started midway down the right side of his neck and disappeared into the neckline of his shirt. It was red and raised and awful looking, like someone had taken a scorching hot chainsaw to his throat. My eyes filled with tears.

"I brought fish," I said somewhat pathetically, holding up the bags. Eric looked surprised. "So you did," he said, admiring the boys. "Is that a male?" he indicated the clownfish. "They both are," I said.

He looked at me knowingly, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "He may distract her, but he'll never displace me," he said emphatically.

"Who could ever do that?" I whispered. Eric started to say something and stopped. He took the fish from me wordlessly, then carefully placed the bags in the tank.

"They have to float and adjust to the water change for twenty to thirty minutes," he explained. "Thank you. The blue tang is quite stunning, and I'm sure Berta will enjoy her toy." I nodded. We watched as Berta cautiously approached the bags. She gave the clownfish a passing glance, and then focused on the tang, swimming back and forth around him as he regarded her impassively.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Eric asked a little stiffly.

"Eric," I sighed, hesitant. "About last night –"

"Did you talk to Minnie this evening?" he interrupted.

"Yes," I said. He looked at me expectantly. I gave him a quick recap of the events as he listened closely. He seemed fascinated and asked me a few questions. The subjects of Andrea and Hunter interested him the most.

"I don't really want to get too deep into it tonight," I said reluctantly. "Pam made me promise not to wind you up." He lifted his eyebrows suggestively. I knew he was tired and hurt and was just putting on a show. "I want to see your injuries, all of them," I insisted. He appeared annoyed.

"Maybe later," he said. At my insistent gaze he made an irritated sound and pulled up his t shirt. My breath caught in my throat. The burn stretched down the side of his neck and over his pectorals in the shape of an upside-down Italy.

My eyes flew to his as they filled with tears again. He huffed and lowered the shirt. "It looks much worse than it is," he stated firmly. "Dr. Ludwig left a few minutes ago and said I would be back to normal in a day or two. I do not enjoy staying here and doing nothing, but we cannot let humans see me diminished or injured in any way." I swallowed and nodded. Even if he wore a turtleneck and covered the wounds, the pain in his eyes - I shuddered. I'd never seen Eric look that way. I could tell he didn't want to talk about the burn, so I changed the subject.

"Eric, I want to apologize properly for not answering your question last night."

Eric set his jaw and gave me an unrelenting expression. "We are not discussing that right now either."

"But Eric-"

"NO." He practically roared as he regarded me sternly. "I am less than one hundred percent and you are overwhelmed with new knowledge. You haven't thought halfway through what Minnie told you yet. We will not discuss about such matters when we are both in compromised states." I could tell it really chapped his ass to admit he was compromised.

"Fine," I huffed. I supposed he was right, and I wasn't supposed to be antagonizing him anyway. My mind went back to Pam. "Have you ever had sex with an extra-terrestrial being, you know, an alien?" I blurted out.

He tilted his head quizzically and gave me a look. "I wish I could read minds the way you do," he murmured. "I do wonder what is going on in that infuriating little head of yours."

"Well?" I raised my eyebrows. "Have you?"

"No Sookie, I've never had sex with creatures from other planets or dimensions," he said flatly. "Why do you ask?"

"Curious," I mumbled, shrugging my shoulders. I knew Pam was trying to get my goat. I did sense a certain ambiguity in his tone. "What all kind of beings have you had sex with?"

He grinned a bit. "Jealous, dove?" I smacked his arm before he continued. "Humans, vampires, and fairies. That about covers it."

"You have had sex with full-blooded fairies before?"

He nodded.

"How did that go?" I wondered.

"It went very well for me," he leered in a grim manner. Oh hell.

"What about demons, brownies and Weres?"

He shook his head.

"Demons can be quite attractive but their blood tastes like sulphur and brimstone," he said. "As far as brownies and Weres I seem to have higher standards than you and your girlfriends, my Sookie."

I slapped him lightly on the arm, avoiding his injuries, of course.

"I can see why you think relations with me are other-worldly, however," he leered full-on then and leaned against me and nuzzled my neck. He didn't seem so pitiful anymore, and secretly I appreciated it, but for appearance's sake, I snorted.

"I don't see why you think you have anything to brag about, as long as you've been at it. Hell, an oyster would be good in bed after a thousand years." I grinned in self-satisfaction at my own little jab.

Eric drew back slightly from my neck. I felt the loss.

"Did you just compare my sexual prowess to that of an oyster?" he asked in a careful tone.

"Oh, get over yourself," I snapped. "I'm just saying with that much time to learn you would hardly have to put in much effort at all. Seems like you could just absorb all the skills incrementally, without trying, kind of like osmosis."

Eric's eyes narrowed. "You suggest I learned how to touch a woman by osmosis?"

"Did that silver affect your hearing and comprehension? If it did, those burns are the least of our worries," I quipped.

He made a disgusted sound and lay back on the couch cushions.

He looked exhausted again. I felt suddenly guilty, and then a little worried; Pam said she could still feel Eric, and I had been aggravating him a lot these last few minutes. Still, it was not most of my concern. I didn't want Eric to be in pain, could hardly stand the thought of it.

"What can I do?" I whispered. He shook his head and closed his eyes, resting his hands on his thighs. I realized he was trying to gather strength, and it scared me.

"Would you like to feed from me? Would that help?' I asked, hope apparent in my tone.

He shook his head again. "I fed well, I am replete," he said with a hooded glance. I wondered if he expected me to show resentment of his feeding, but I chose to ignore it.

"Maybe a little more? Hair of the dog," I joked. He laughed a bit. "Perhaps after a while." I felt helpless and a bit rejected, but I didn't give up.

"I want to stay with you all night, in case you need anything, in case you need to eat," I said. He shifted in his seat. "Not necessary." He set his face with a stoic expression.

"What about the Andromeda blood?" I knew that might help him heal faster.

He squared his jaw. "This is not that bad of an injury. We are saving the Andromeda blood for more serious situations."

I wanted to argue, but I knew Eric would just go into warrior mode and tell me he wasn't hurt again, so I let it go. I sat and sulked a little bit. I'd ridden a roller coaster of emotions, and felt such happiness during the drive over from Minnie's. My former bubble effectively and completely burst, what with Pam and her attitude, and then getting so scared for Eric. I felt very selfish for thinking that way, but Eric's current state of mind did not help matters.

Perhaps I should have listened to Pam and stayed away, because he really did remind me of a wounded bear, I thought to myself. He might have been happier if I hadn't come, but I would have never slept anyway without at least talking to him and the bastard wouldn't answer the phone. I gave him a dirty look at that thought, which he returned with a mocking one.

"It's been long enough." Eric stood up and walked over to the tank. Quite deftly he opened the plastic bags and released the fish. We watched as they swam around. The male clownfish headed straight for Berta, who quickly dismissed him with a flick of her tail. The tang began exploring the tank, Berta trailing him a few inches away. We watched for a few minutes as this pattern continued. Berta treated the clownfish with thinly veiled contempt, apparently dazzled by the perfection of the tang. After a while the clownfish retreated into the anemone, obviously sulking. Berta gained confidence and openly stalked the tang like a fan girl after an autograph. He, of course, ignored her.

"Things may change, but we may have to separate Berta from the tang if she insists on acting that way," Eric announced. For some reason, that flew all over me.

"I bought the clownfish for Berta to have a mate. I bought the blue tang because he's so magnificent and he was crowded in his tank at that shop. But if Berta likes the tang better, then it's her business." I pressed my lips together as I looked at Eric.

"It doesn't make any sense," he said evenly. "She can't mate with the tang."

"She'll do what she wants to do, you can't control it." I folded my arms across my chest as I spoke.

"I can take that tang out of the tank if she becomes obsessed with him," Eric returned stridently. Someone's injuries were making him a little grumpy, apparently.

"Why would you do that? If she wants to be with him, if he makes her happy, why would you interfere? She knows what she wants better than you do," My voice raised several octaves. We were on a slippery slope, and if I had any sense I would have shut up, but since when have I ever done the prudent thing where Eric is concerned?

"If I make an executive decision, then that decision will stand," Eric stated in a tone that brooked no argument. I, of course, paid him no heed. I closed the distance between us and poked him in the chest with my index finger – careful to avoid his injuries, I must add.

"Who died and made you God? What makes you think you know anything about matters of the heart, especially where a female is concerned?"

Eric's eyes flew wide and filled with rage as his jaw clenched. "Remove your finger from my chest this instant," he growled in a tone I have rarely heard. "Before I do something we will both regret."

****************

_**Ending A/N Now, before you go trash talking me, let me assure you that if I hadn't stopped there, I would have had to stop at a very rough place that's coming up, and I just know you would have hated that. It's a theme park ride folks, chills and thrills, but hopefully we'll end up back at the station.**_ **_And yes, I am aware that Eric is acting boorish, and Sookie is being even more pig-headed and obtuse than usual; keep in mind that he's hurting and she's had a very long day. If we never test the parameters of love, will we ever understand what they are? Besides, making up can be ... exquisite. _**_**As always, I'd love to hear from you, take care, misscyn**_

**_PS Have you ever felt the way Sookie did when she was driving down the road? Have you ever experienced a life-changing revelation that made you feel that joyous, that took the weight off your shoulders and set you free? Tell me about it. I'm sure we'd all love to hear. (if it takes up a lot of space to tell your story, just type it in Word or in your notepad first, then cut and paste it into the review or message/reply box. That way f f dot net won't cut off your words. So let loose with it -I'd really like to inspire a little happiness-spreading here)_****_Heck if you even know of something that might make you feel that way, drop me a line. We need all the unadulterated joy, albeit vicariously, that we can get *wink* misscyn_**

**_12/2 It's not ready yet but tonight I will start personally emailing all reviewers for Chapter 45 an excerpt/teaser from Chapter 46 that I think you folks will like a lot - if I don't get it to you today, I promise I will by midnight tomorrow. If you don't review it will be posted on my profile Sunday and the SVM Teasers thread next Monday. It'll alleviate a little angst, I hate leaving you all worked up :)_**

**_Also I deleted it when I edited the above post but nycsnowbird is the bomb ... she taught me how to use ellipses today ... I've been having WAY too much fun with them now that I know how to do it perfectly ... sigh_**

**_12/5 Tonight we will pass the 200,000 hits mark folks - and it's all because of you. I thank you, my readers, and as a humble reward I will be posting the next chapter very quickly (for me, that is) hopefully by the end of the week. It's about half done now. Thank you all, misscyn_**


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N This is a tad shorter than usual but I'm trying to keep the fires burning over the holidays, guys. A lot of stories seem to be on hiatus but I promised my readers I wouldn't just stop and I won't. It's Thursday night in this chapter, and the Octavia-Wizno wedding is Saturday, just to keep y'all up to date. Thanks to my beta Wanda W. for cheerfully cleaning up all my slovenliness. I changed it some after she gave it back, so don't blame her for any mistakes. I appreciate you guys staying with me, really I do. **

**Oh, and BTW, I know I said there would probably be no more citrus, but I was up at the love shack the other day and I found Fintan's tin of ****Robert Rothschild's Particularly Peppy Lemon Zest ****and his demitasse spoon, so I thought I'd flick some at you (oops, cover your eyes) Take care, misscyn**

**Chapter 46**

Eric is, and always will be, a vampire. Although I aspire to greater things, I am, more often than I care to admit, a sometimes-not-so-bright human.

I gently dropped my hand and took a slow, careful step backward. Eric continued to glare at me while I tried my best to school my features into a pleasant and innocuous expression.

Instead, much to my horror, I felt my face crumple involuntarily as a torrent of sobs bubbled up from my chest.

"You don't like my presents!" I wailed, unable to stop myself. I don't know where it came from and I hated the girlish, immature reaction even as it unfolded; I swear it was out of my control. I sat down on the couch in utter mortification and rocked back and forth, my face buried in my hands.

"Lover," I heard Eric murmur tiredly, tonelessly. I looked up through my fingers to see him standing above me, his eyebrows furrowed, his pained eyes helplessly fixed on mine. "Lover, do not do this tonight." He drew one hand through his hair, rumpling it quite deliciously, I couldn't help but notice. "Of course I like your presents."

Pam's words drifted back to me. _'Really Sookie? Because this isn't about you.' _

Hurriedly I sucked up the tears, messily wiping my face with my shirt. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't cry anymore, I promise," I muttered. I stood up, smoothing my shirt back down and sniffling a little still.

"Perhaps I should go," I said. Eric studied me for a moment and then very slightly inclined his head.

_He inclined his head_. Eric never did that. I may run away, but Eric doesn't run me off.

No way was I going to stand for that.

I could do this, I told myself. I could take care of Eric; I could forget myself and concentrate on him. It's what we both needed, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

"I'm okay now," I said, widening my eyes and trying to smile brightly. From Eric's expression, he wasn't fooled. "I will stay," I said firmly. His eyes never left mine.

"Does your wound need dressing?" I asked. He looked away then and didn't answer.

"Eric," I said as gently as I could, "did Dr. Ludwig leave any instructions for the care of your burn?"

He took a deep, unnecessary breath. "There's a salve in the bedroom that helps draw out any miniscule silver particles," he admitted after a moment. "I am supposed to wash the wound and apply it every couple of hours.

"Which I am perfectly capable of doing myself," he all but growled.

Wordlessly I headed for the kitchen, found a bowl in the cabinets, and started running warm water in the sink.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he folded his arms across his chest, grunting a bit at the obvious discomfort before he could stop himself.

"I'm going to bathe your burns and apply the salve for you," I said. "Where that burn is located there is no way you could do it yourself without maybe looking in a mirror, which still wouldn't be very effective."

"Sookie, I have been taking care of my own battle wounds for centuries," Eric stated. "I do not need your help."

I slammed the still-open cabinet shut a little more forcefully than I meant to and walked over to him with the bowl in my hand. I leaned in toward him as close as I dare.

"Is it that much that I ask? Let me have this," I pled softly, shamelessly using his Bourbon Street words against him. "Please."

He gave me a measuring look which I met with all the sincerity I could muster. Begrudgingly he turned and walked toward the bedroom.

Although I wanted to do a little jig behind him, it wasn't quite time for a victory dance yet.

He sat on the bed and I stood between his knees and grabbed the bottom of his shirt. "Arms up," I said just the way Gran and my mom before her had said to me, and he lifted them obediently enough while I pulled the shirt off and tossed it to the ground.

I dipped a dark blue washcloth into the sudsy water and swirled, then squeezed it. I sucked in my breath and began to dab at the burn. It was so big, covering nearly half his chest and neck. I swallowed and shut my eyes for just a second. I felt Eric watching me closely. I opened my eyes and started working again, forcing a smile on my face. I wondered if Pam let the boys who did this live; I found it somewhat surprising that I did not care.

Eric stiffened every now and again when I hit a tender part, but otherwise did not make a sound. I grew angrier and angrier and then sadder and sadder as I saw how torn and ravaged his flesh was, and when I sensed his pain.

At one point when I tended to the most severely injured portion of flesh, he fisted his massive hands in the comforter but still remained completely silent. I wanted to scream, just so one of us was letting the pain out, but I steeled myself and went on.

He appeared to retreat inside himself after that. He sat like a statue, unmoving and completely stilled, almost the same as when in his daytime slumber. I could imagine him being that way during torture; so stoic, so frozen. What he must have been put through physically all these years, the things he must have seen, I mused to myself.

I finished washing and picked up the jar of salve. It had a funny smell, almost like patchouli and orange, not unpleasant. "Your skin needs to dry first," I said. "Wait right here." He nodded slightly.

I stood and went to the living room, turning off the lights and straightening up. I set the codes and checked the door. Berta was in the anemone, as far away as she could get from the male clown, still watching the tang longingly. "No guts, no glory, girl," I said and then winked at her before shutting off the light.

Eric sat on the bed where I left him when I returned with the pillows from the couch. I knelt beside him and began to apply the salve ever so lightly just with the tips of my fingertips to the raw, red, ragged skin. I prayed I did not add to his discomfort, and I tried my best. He continued to watch me, and I felt him almost imperceptibly relax as I finished up.

'Felipe," he said out of the blue. I looked at him questioningly. "Felipe ordered me to leave tonight," he admitted, his eyes steely and his jaw set again. "I would not have run, I would have stayed. I am not ashamed." He ran his hand along his thigh and then gripped it.

"If anyone had said I appeared weak or looked at me disparagingly, I would have torn them limb from limb. No one would have thought me diminished. I do not run out of my bar like a whimpering, scalded dog."

Ah. I didn't know what to say to that. I leaned over and kissed the top of his head.

He ran his hand through his wild mane in that unfamiliar gesture once again. "I should have sensed them anyway," he said ruefully. "I am not slipping, but I can see how some might come to that conclusion."

I hung my head a bit and turned around, not wanting to meet his gaze.

"What are we doing here, my dove?" he asked huskily as he caught my wrist in his square, powerful grasp. Still ashamed, I shook my head and he dropped my hand after a moment.

I walked to the chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of thin cotton lounge pants in a soft green shade and a matching camisole, both soft and only slightly adorned with embroidery. I went in the bathroom and changed out of my work clothes, freshening up a bit and brushing my teeth, getting ready for bed.

When I returned he was lying back on the pillows, still shirtless.

"What did Beau Sinclair want?" he asked.

"I dunno," I said. "He just asked me to contact him."

Eric nodded. "He is a very wealthy man, and powerful in Supe circles as well as human ones. He could afford to protect you as well as I can. He could offer," here he paused and looked me in the eyes, "other things you might be interested in. Mortality, children," his voice drifted off.

"Whoa buddy," I said after a stunned silence, cut by his words, "he hasn't proposed yet. I think you're putting the cart before the horse."

Eric shrugged, ever the pragmatist. "I know he wants you. All Supes do, and I saw the look in his eyes that night at the Monteleone."

"So I'm comparison shopping for the best deal here?" I stood in front of the bed, my arms akimbo. "Seeing if I can get more Supe bang for my buck?"

In spite of his weariness, Eric's lips twitched at the corners. "I was merely pointing out what you may not be aware of yet," he said. I rolled my eyes.

"However," he gave me the ghost of his signature leer here, "if you ever find 'more Supe bang for your buck' I would suggest that you take it."

Despite the joking, his words jarred me, stung, hurt. Where was my jealous, possessive, arrogant Viking, the one who knew no other man would ever compare to him? I wanted to lash out, raise hell at Eric's implications, but something stopped me short. I paused and looked, really looked at my vampire. And what I saw chilled me to the bone.

He sat perfectly upright on that bed, clad only in workout pants. He looked paler than I had ever seen him and every decade of his life was etched into his features. I felt the toll the day had taken on him. Even though the bond was still muted, I sensed all the anger, frustration, humiliation and rage.

Eric was in a bad, bad place. It wasn't the physical pain─he could take that, and much, much more, I knew─but the mental despair that was bringing him down. I became completely unnerved by the knowledge that I'd added to the burden of the one being in the world I cared about most.

I knew how he would rush into any battle, would be proud to fight honorably, but how being the victim of this hate crime, and how Felipe reacted, made him feel small. I hated anything that made him feel small.

I knew I might regret it; both Pam and Eric had told me to keep my mouth shut. But I couldn't afford to lose the clarity, the momentum I'd felt all evening. Time to fish or cut bait, as Gran would say.

"I know it's too early for you to go to bed," I said hesitantly, "but you need to rest and I have some things to say."

He made a little imperious wave with his hand, his face turned to the wall. I clambered up onto the bed on his right, the side away from his wounds, and nestled my face in the curve of his shoulder.

And then I began to speak.

I bent my mouth gently to his ear, sent caution to hell, and unburdened my heart. I told him everything I felt for him, not only in the car on the way to Fangtasia from Minnie's, but every wish, every fancy, and every emotion.

I gave it all up, in a quiet storm and rush of words falling out of my mouth, tumbling over each other. I whispered and murmured and spoke quite loudly at times, but held nothing back, no cards to my chest.

I told him that I didn't know exactly when I'd started caring for him, but I thought it was when he staked Longshadow. Even then as ignorant as I was, I knew he didn't have to do that, was taking chances by doing so. I saw his mind as cold and calculating, but I knew it was instinct that drove that stake through a fellow vampire's heart, because politics alone didn't explain such an action. He had been raised to protect women. He wanted to protect me, even then.

When I was dying from the maenad poisoning and he made me laugh with his ridiculous apology, when he sent me porn flowers and came to see me after my attack by Rene, floating outside the window at the hospital, when he came, every time, I knew and never forgot.

In Jackson, in Club Dead, when I'd been staked, I knew he was my only chance at survival, and he met the challenge in spades. That he carried me bleeding my damned part fae blood into a mansion full of vampires to heal me because that was the only chance I had, even though he put himself at risk to do it.

That every time I woke up with him uninvited in my bed back then, I was secretly glad to find him there. Although I knew he did it for selfish reasons, it distracted me for a few minutes from the pain I felt at Bill's betrayal, and at least made me feel desirable. I think somewhere inside he knew that his relentless flirting cheered me.

When he pulled me out of the back of the drug dealer's Lincoln in Alcide's garage, he never caused me humiliation by mentioning my sorry state. I knew that he knew what happened in that trunk, but he never brought it up.

All his conniving and his misplaced hiring of Charles was done for my benefit. I told him I was very well aware of his uncertainty at Rhodes, how he hesitated to do that which had to be done, and that made his actions mean that much even more. I even told him how I appreciated the fact that he didn't kill Quinn or Bill, when I knew he really wanted to hurt them, and badly. All these things he did or didn't do for me, I knew.

"I know you thought I liked you better when you lost your memory," I said, rubbing my fingers over his. "You were easier to deal with then, it's true, but I missed the smartass, always-in-control Eric. I missed your strength, and even missed arguing with you. The truth is, if I could choose between that Eric and you, there would be no contest. You have earned the right to be arrogant, and I can accept that, although I can't promise that it won't ever get on my nerves."

For once I didn't worry about his ego, how he would tease me later for my confessions, I just wanted him to have all of it. I didn't cry either, even though my voice grew hoarse from unshed tears.

So then I lay beside him, drawing circles on his arm, reaching up every now and again to touch his face. I told him even though I never wanted to be a vampire, the only thing that made the concept of immortality even the least bit compelling to me was the thought that I would be spending it with him. I played with his massive hands, the powerful wrists and strength of his fingers, and told him of all the pleasure they had given, in spite of all the pain that they had wrought. I told him that I did not fear him, only feared losing him.

"I am surrounded by Supes, I even have a little supernatural blood of my own in my veins as we speak; but you are all I need, will ever need, and it has nothing to do with you being a vampire. Because a vampire is what you are, not who you are; you are my magic, the man underneath. And I'll take that magic anyway I can get it. What woman in her right mind would ever walk away from that?"

Every time he started to speak I stopped him until he finally gave up and just listened.

"I'm sorry I've played games and been less than honest with you sometimes, sorry that I pushed you away. I'd been hurt by others─others who were lesser men than you. I grew up without a father or a mother, and I always figured that was why my grandmother insisted on teaching me independence. But I learned some things tonight that shed a little light on that too.

"I know it's ridiculous to think that I can head off everything I'm going to have to face in what may lay ahead. It's too much, too dangerous, and that world─our world─is too foreign to me. It would be entirely asinine to try to go it alone. I don't want to depend on you, but I know that I need you. I understand the difference now."

I fell silent then and I started humming, still caressing his arm and hand and face from time to time, nestling my head in his shoulders. I felt content, and I could feel his contentment too, but I wanted more.

"Yield to me," I whispered. He looked at me lazily, quirking an eyebrow. "You know what I mean. Let me in."

He appeared to be lost in thought for a moment, and then I felt it─the unfurling of a wizened tree root, an ancient frond, reaching towards me and beginning to pulse with life. I gasped as the bond opened and strengthened, the grizzled black turning to pink, hot emotions started to soar and slide along it from him to me, from me to him in a dizzyingly, nearly frantic motion.

Then as suddenly as it came to life, it settled down and I felt that familiar hum I'd missed so much─I hadn't even realized how the absence had ached, the way an amputee misses their arm or leg. I felt whole again, that joyous feeling from the car ride from Minnie's returning.

I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed every inch of his face lightly, a hummingbird dipping into the sweet stamen of a flower. At first he seemed amused but as I went on his face stilled and the weariness retreated and some of the light─oh, God, some of the light behind his eyes returned through the fog of pain and I was so happy, so relieved.

We whisper-kissed and I blew across his skin as I told him how he saved me, saved me from a life of misery and mediocrity, saved me from myself. I could feel him getting restless, but I had just one more point to make.

"If I thought of my life as a book, as late as last January, the pages you appeared in it would have been dog-eared and stained from my reading them over and over hundreds of times," I said, pushing a lock of his hair behind his ear. "But the saddest thing about such a book would be there were too few pages like that, and too far between them. It had been that way for too long, and I couldn't take it anymore."

He lay silent, watching, waiting for me to say more.

"But then I took the job with the Weres and you started paying more attention," I said, looking at him for confirmation. He nodded. "I thought you were slipping away," he admitted. "I had to do something."

I nodded too. "Then it took us a little while to work it out, and we decided to be together. And that's how it's been ever since.

"So for the last six months I've been able to put that old book away, but instead I've turned into a seven-year old girl with a View-Master toy. Do you know what one of those is?" he shook his head. "It's this child's toy that's been around forever, and it has these little cardboard wheels of film, these photographic films, that you can click through at look at the different scenes. I carried mine with me everywhere, and when kids were being mean and I needed to escape, I'd just pull it out and go somewhere else in my head.

"I keep those mental images in those cardboard wheels in my head of all the things we've done together, of the ice storm, and the hotel room that first time after the cocktail party when I threw the ice bucket at your head, and the honeysuckle and the leeches and the carrots and the pearls, and the pictures, they're always you, they're always with you.

"And no matter where we are in those pictures in my head, no matter what kind of hellhole or vampire shit, even on the side of the Mississippi fighting the Andromedas, covered in mud and filth and flour, because I'm with you it's all right," my voice completely left me at this point, but I cleared my throat and went on.

"When I look back it seems we are always in a paradise, of a sort, and you and I its tiny god and goddess, after a fashion," I trailed my fingers along his face. His eyes darkened as I caressed the cleft of his chin.

"In my memory no matter what's happening or where we're at, that's how it feels, because I'm with you, and that's all it takes to make me feel that way."

I rubbed my head as weariness began to take its toll.

"You asked me what we are doing here, and the truth is I don't know," I looked him full in the eyes then. "All I know is I don't want to stop, and if this is all there is, then I'll take it."

Still he remained silent. I nudged him in the side. "I'm allowed to speak now?" he rumbled. I nodded.

"If you're asking me what we're doing here, from what I can tell, I am trying my best to love you," he elbowed me back in my ribs and I frowned. "And you are doing your damnedest to stop me."

"I'm serious, Eric," I tried not to sound petulant.

"So am I, lover," he said darkly. The tide of his mood turned and I felt the quickening within as soon as it started, the tension building in his frame as he turned to me.

"Enough talking," he said, in that tone that I knew meant it would be best not to argue and then his lips crashed to mine, hard, and I could feel myself bruising as I tried to absorb his pain with my own.

I wanted him, of course. Even in this dire situation I felt the magnetism between us, how just being in the same room set the little hairs on my arms on edge, made it hard to catch my breath. Reluctantly I drew away. "We can't Eric," I protested. "You are hurt; you will pull at your wound."

"I let you speak your piece," he returned in a low growl. "Now I'm robbing this train."

He kissed me again and pressed against me and I felt his hardness as his hands started to move up and down my body, taking off my pajamas so swiftly and skillfully I hardly noticed. How did he manage to be aroused when he was injured? Of course, this was Eric we're talking about. Still, I knew it would do him no good to strain himself further.

He must have felt my reticence because his next words did me in.

"Is it that much that I ask? Let me have this," the Viking with no shame murmured into my neck. "Please."

And then he was Eric again, just like that. And how could I deny him, how could I not ease his precious, precious ache?

Gently I pushed him back on the bed to where his back was resting against the headboard and pillows. He started to protest. "No," I admonished gently. "Tonight you don't give. Tonight you take."

I trailed my hands down his sides and pulled his pants off those long, muscled legs. "Try not to move," I whispered, "so you don't hurt yourself." A tiny smirk appeared at the corner of his lips and he nodded without speaking.

I took him in my hands and loved him with my mouth as best I could.

He placed his hands lightly in my hair. I could tell by the encouraging sounds he was making he enjoyed it, but also that he wanted more.

"I need to be inside you, Sookie," he groaned, grabbing my hands and pulling me up. "I need to feel you all around me, to be connected that way. You know what I mean." I looked in his eyes and saw such warmth reflected there.

I climbed on top as gracefully as possible and took him slowly inside. I could see that his chest was hurting but he was making a valiant effort not to show it, and it didn't affect his erection, God bless a vampire. I rocked gently at first, and he grabbed my hips and kept up the smooth, steady tempo for a few minutes.

I bowed my back so I could kiss him without touching his chest, but as soon as he realized what I was doing he grabbed me and pulled me to him with a hiss, naked need overriding the pain, and I felt the sweet ache just as though I'd been burned myself.

The intensity of the emotion ─just the fact that he would do such a thing─brought me to a climax immediately, a shuddering, shouting finish, Eric not far behind with his head thrown back and his chest pushed forward, magnificent in his presence and beauty and virility, the gruesome marks down his chest only emphasizing his strength and fortitude.

I paused, out of breath, and lay quiet for a minute, my hand reverently touching the side of his chest that wasn't hurt. He'd quite literally rocked my world, despite his war wounds. I expected teasing words of oysters and osmosis, but to my surprise he refrained. He didn't try to speak, and the silence soothed between us, not asking to be filled.

"What the hell got into you?" he asked after a few minutes.

I chuckled and rolled to the side. "You were fussy," I teased lightly. "I was trying to cheer you up."

He gave me a dubious look. I silently delighted in the radiant gleam that had returned to his eyes.

"Fussy? Unusual word choice, my dove," he countered. "Then again, this has been quite an unusual one-sided conversation, all things considered."

"I meant every bit of it," I said in a low voice. "I know lover," he murmured back, stroking my side slowly. "I know."

After we quieted for a while I rewashed his injury and patted him down again with the salve. He seemed much better and even let me put his t shirt back on so the flesh would be protected. Reluctantly, I pulled away even though he protested a bit; I didn't want to sleep too close and risk touching him in a tender place. And as I felt Eric begin to drift into downtime, I fell into a deep and uninterrupted sleep.

**_*********_**

**_A/N I kinda borrowed part of the View-Master toy thing from my unfinished novel,_ The Pickled Pig's Feet Memoirs_, so if I ever finish it and you happen to read it, you'll know where it came from. There is a Chapter 47 spoiler on my profile as of 12/12, check it out._**

**_As always, your thoughts and opinions count, and truly mean the world to me._**

**_I thank you and wish you the finest of holiday seasons, my little cracker crunchers. In the coming year may you all find your paradise, of a sort, and become its tiny gods and goddesses, after a fashion. *wink* misscyn_**


	47. Chapter 47

**Disclaimer: Not my characters, they belong to Charlaine Harris. Damn it. **

**A/N A little late and a tad shorter again, but I still delivered the enchilada. Merry Christmas, cracker crunchers. You might want to review Chapter 18 before reading this chapter, there is a reference. And BTW, have you ever tried to flick lemon zest? That shit gets everywhere *wink* misscyn**

**Chapter 47**

I felt a rustling in the bed; a hiss and the sound of fangs snapping down. My eyes flew open as two very large and powerful arms snaked around my waist. I stiffened. So did something else.

"I'm going to take a bath," Eric murmured in my ear. "You may join me, if you are so inclined."

I felt a breeze as he left the bed and stifled a whimper. Sleepily, I rolled over and glanced at the clock, 3:45 am. About five hours sleep, and a couple hours until Eric had to go to ground. I could afford a little together time and still sleep an hour or two after he went to bed for the day.

I gave him about ten minutes and then got up, straightened my nightgown and hair, and walked into the bathroom. Steam filled the room. Eric sat in the middle of the slate blue and sapphire marble whirlpool tub, sandalwood-scented water swirling around him.

He lifted his head and regarded me from beneath his brow—his gaze feral, predatory, hungry—and completely unapologetic for all of the above.

Eric was back, and in rare form at that. I thrilled, then chilled at the mere realization.

He didn't have to call me forward. I moved to the tub, mesmerized by the way his eyes reflected the sapphire shades and colors all around him. I dropped my gown and stepped into the water. He reached up and grabbed me by the waist to steady me as I sat down.

"Dove," he said as softly as if he were trying to still such a feathered creature, "I do believe you offered me a meal."

My heartbeat quickened.

"You shouldn't be in the bath," I scolded half-heartedly.

"And yet," he nuzzled me closely, "I find myself here, and in such delightful company to boot."

"You are putting yourself at risk for infection," I tried to maintain a self-righteous tone, failed.

"Not much of a risk for a vampire even with a silver wound. It could slow the healing perhaps," Eric said. "But you could do your part, lover, and help me get better. I am making good progress so far."

I twisted my head and examined his wounds; he was right, lots of progress. The red and ragged flesh was closed up and everything was now more of a hot pink in color, with the edges starting to return to a normal shade of pale, creamy marble.

"Help me heal, my lover," he whispered. A fang pressed against my shoulder, then moved away. I felt its loss inexplicably. Eric started running his hands all over me. He grabbed the showerhead and dipped my head under the water and then his.

We were both soaked and I reveled in how beautiful Eric was when wet, the golden hair slicked back and dripping, exposing that magnificent forehead, his full lashes dampened and his eyes that much more intense, the water sluicing down the blond hairs on his chest and darkening them. The heat of the water warmed his skin and we were both hot, his cool tongue and breath the only respite from the humid, stifling air.

Eric pulled my neck back, trailing his tongue along it; my skin shivered, then goose bumped. He traced my ear with his fingertips, massaging my hair and scalp, laying his fingers slightly all over my face, running them down my neck, to my fingertips, touching me everywhere but my breasts and between my legs.

"Did you mother never teach you not to play with your food?" I teased breathlessly. I gasped as he started to nip and lick at my toes, causing all my girl business to jump up and tighten.

"No, she did not," he murmured, running his mouth and hand up my calf. "And it's been quite a while since my mother was in charge of my dining habits."

I took the offense and returned his caresses. The heat and steam made our bodies slick and sliding. His burns were closed now and so I could run my fingers all over his chest and arms, his neck, sweep his hair back. My body became covered in a thin layer of sweat and it served as a lubricant as we continued to slide and touch, the water and heat becoming a part of us, he and I becoming a part of each other, not sure where one ended and the other began.

He flipped me with my back to his chest, then pierced my shoulder with his fangs and thrust inside me at the same time. The water made it a little rougher but I welcomed the sting, wanted it. I wrapped my free arm around his neck as he bucked and rode, drinking from my shoulder deeply. I began to feel light-headed, not sure if it was the steam, the sex or the blood loss, but Eric finished feeding and was in no hurry, and as he pulled me forward and plunged deeply I began to feel an utter loss of self, of time and place.

Just when I felt I could take the dizzying pace no more he lifted me off of him and flipped me around to a straddling position, impaling me on his length again and again, and it seemed to go on and on as he consumed me from the inside and out, claimed me, marked me with his fangs, let me know who I was and who I belonged to with every push of his hips.

In our coupling he reminded me of a racing stallion the day after a Trifecta injury, the moment the magnificent creature realizes that he will, indeed, run that fast again. Every sure and powerful movement became a roar of victory over the darkness of his defeat. At the same time he never made me feel objectified by his triumph, but a complement to it. I knew he needed me to feel the timelessness, the magnitude of my warrior's spirit, and to know that we, together, had this physical manifestation of such between us.

After a few minutes he began to rain kisses all over my face, murmuring soft and foreign words over and over in a raspy, melodic voice so low I could not make out the words, but it became almost a husky Gregorian chant, a manna of sound that I could listen to forever. I tried as hard as I could in the altered state I found myself in to memorize it, knowing I would crave the joyous recollection of his voice this way, play it over and over in my mind to no end.

And then, to my surprise it ended without fanfare, a peaceful rush of pleasure, his forehead pressed hard against mine, me gripping his neck and hair and holding on for dear life. Such tenderness after the heated rush nearly did me in, the duality of the emotions chafing and pulling at my soul. We stayed quiet for a few moments, my heart beating out of my chest and his stillness and size comforting to me, a huge rock to cling to in a tempestuous sea.

I remained in front of him and gradually I realized my arms were still around his neck, my body buoyant in the water. I lowered them gently and turned myself slightly, my head and arms across his chest, just to relax a bit in the afterglow.

"I am a selfish creature," Eric broke the silence abruptly, grazing his lips across my forehead. I looked at him questioningly. His gaze was intent. "I act in my own best interest ninety-five percent of the time. It just so happens that my own best interest and your best interest are often the same thing."

"What are you saying?" I asked groggily as I pulled back slightly to look at him better.

"I'm saying that you should not make me out to be some kind of a saint in your head. Saints get killed. That's why they are sanctified. I don't get killed. I survive." Eric pulled me closer and buried his head in my shoulder as if to soften his words.

"I lie, I kill, I trick people; I do what it takes to get what I need. I always have," he played with my fingers as he spoke.

We sat for a few more seconds. I felt like I was waiting for something, the other shoe to fall.

"I have something to tell you," he said then, and my skin cooled at the words. "The ceremonial knife I used in Rhodes was not—insignificant."

A tiny red flag went up in my head.

"How so?" my voice sounded flinty even to me.

"We are connected very tightly in the eyes of vampires as a result," he looked at me sideways. "Close to what humans would consider a legal and binding interpersonal contract."

Interpersonal. Interesting choice of words. "Some kind of twisted-up vampire version of a marriage?" I surmised.

He inclined his head. "From a technical standpoint, yes." He continued to watch me carefully.

"Huh," I breathed, eyeing him narrowly. I tried to steady my heart. "Were you planning on sharing this with the class at some point?" I failed to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, and really, I didn't give a damn.

"At some point yes, and as the situation appears to warrant, that point is now." He sat forward and the water moved around us.

"We have a situation?" I countered.

"Yes," he said, revealing nothing.

"Do we have to change anything? Can I get out of this contract I want?" I busied myself fighting off the panic in my chest.

He nodded casually. "Yes, there are ways to remove it. And no, you do not have to do anything differently. We can continue just the way we are," his eyes dropped to the water. "Or not."

I sure did not like that 'or not.' Somewhere deep inside, the traitorous and unthinking part of my heart was doing a happy dance because of this new development. I tried unsuccessfully to squash it down.

"Why did you do it?" My anger continued to dissipate for some reason I could not fathom.

"I am an opportunist and the opportunity presented itself. We were going to be bound anyway with that exchange. I had the knife in my pocket; I wanted to protect you from Andre and the queen as much as I could, and using the knife would up the protection level."

"So you Super-Sized our blood exchange," I clarified.

"Yes I did," he stated with conviction, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Anyway," he continued, trailing his hand through the water. He turned his head suddenly and his gaze bore into mine. "How do you feel about it?"

My eyes widened—I mean, it was a strange question, considering the source. I hesitated for a split second.

"I don't know," I replied honestly. "I'm a little taken aback, I have to admit. How do you feel about it?" I searched his face for some indication of emotion.

The warmth in his eyes flickered slightly and I caught a fleeting glimpse of something—disappointment, was that possible?—before he schooled his features.

He furrowed his brow and then shrugged. "I have known about it from the beginning, so it is not news to me. Like I said, nothing has to change."

I closed my eyes and leaned back against him. I wanted to get mad and yell, but we'd just had sex, I was warm and wet, he'd been hurt but now felt better, and my body moved like a jellyfish, all boneless and relaxed and satiated. I did not want to fight. And actually, I wasn't really that surprised; I knew we were bound very tightly, and I'd always wondered in the back of my mind about that knife.

"Kinda dirty to tell me like this," I murmured reproachfully.

"I play dirty, lover," he returned in a low voice, "just like I play with my food." He twisted me around and pulled me up with my thighs on either side of face and turned his head, sliding fang and finger into me simultaneously. I wanted to push him away but instead I rested my hands on his head, bracing myself.

He drank for just a few seconds, then retracted his fangs and licked the wound. He gave me a devilish glance and removed his hand. He stuck the pad of his thumb in his mouth and licked it very deliberately, thoroughly wetting it; I hissed at the incredibly erotic move. He pulled it out of his mouth and placed it directly over my clit and started moving in counter-rhythm to his fingers.

I gasped in shock as he worked me quickly and so damn smoothly with both his hand and his mouth that I arrived at a second finish in just a matter of minutes, my knees giving way as he caught me. Boy sure knew how to distract me. I both cursed and blessed him in my head.

I was wasted then, limp and lifeless. He stood up and dried us both off, then carried me to the bed and tucked me in, laughing under his breath. I examined his chest from under my lashes and marveled at how much better it looked than even a few minutes ago. Eric was not one to be kept down. He went into the living room to feed and check on the fish while I tried to gather my wits.

"Do you have any more secrets?" I blurted out as he returned to the bedroom.

"I have had a few centuries to gather secrets, little one," he chuckled.

"About me," I pressed.

He gave me a significant look. "There will always be secrets where you are concerned, Sookie. Haven't you learned that by now?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I will do what is best for both of us, whatever that is," he stated firmly. "You may not like it at the time, and I may not be able to reveal all when you want me to; but rest assured, as I told you before, I will act in the best interest of us both," he looked at me pointedly again, "whatever that might entail."

I felt a little odd about his tone. He couldn't fight off the pull of the sunrise much longer so I let him alone, his eyes drifting closed as he went into deadtime. I had more questions and wanted to raise more than a little hell but there was no time.

I rose about seven, dressed and headed to Bon Temps, no time to waste. I had no idea how to sort through the confused mess in my head. On the one hand, I felt such happiness at unburdening my soul to Eric, and it did seem like we made such progress. His injuries upset me to no end, but by the time I left he was well on his way to being fully recovered, and I felt really proud that I may have helped with that.

On the other hand, more effing subterfuge by the people in my life just when I thought I was getting past it. I mulled and pouted a little bit on the drive, but who could blame me? I mean, I bare my heart to the guy, so he tells me he's not a saint, and, by the way, we're vampire-married? Shit.

But then again—and here I felt a tight little smile curving my lips—_we're vampire-married_. I groaned out loud. Stifle yourself, Sookie, I scolded internally. He did it under duress. It doesn't mean what you want it to mean. While I may have laid it all on the line, he did not exactly reciprocate. My heart sank at the thought. Shit shit shit.

I tried to put my thoughts aside and concentrate on the tasks ahead. I pulled in my driveway and I was amazed at the progress Wizno and Octavia had made so far.

Chairs and tables were set up everywhere, covered in drop cloths. The ceremony was scheduled for 10 pm the next day, a night wedding to accommodate the vampire guests. So lots of lighting was needed, and it appeared Wizno was working on that, accompanied by several brownie men I assumed to be his brothers. A pathway of interlocking bricks had already been set up across the lawn, leading to the white wrought-iron altar and archway. I made a mental note that it did not look like enough chairs, as the ceremony was to be held on the front lawn, and the reception and late-night dinner in the back.

I headed for the door. We had to get dinner preparations started for the rehearsal and I had to start on those damn watermelon sherbet bombes.

Octavia greeted me at the doorway. Her hair was tousled, her shirt wrinkled, and she looked, well, she looked crazy, to be honest.

"Glad you could join us," she remarked snidely.

"I'm here, I'm here," I returned quickly. 'Do with me what you will."

Amelia, Octavia and I busted ass all day long. Things were in pretty good shape. Octavia's cousins arrived and began the food preparation. I spent the day cleaning and setting up. I got the ice cream to harden and the chocolate drizzles done. All I had to do was pour the amaretto over them on the dessert plates and set them afire. The rehearsal was scheduled for six and dinner was scheduled for seven so about five I took a shower and got dressed. I realized I hadn't returned Beau Sinclair's call yet, but I just did not have time.

It was a small rehearsal because Amelia and I were the only attendants. Wizno's brother Olaf was his best man, and Octavia's son Tristan was going to give her away. I found it a little unsettling to meet the brownie men but everyone got along swimmingly. I felt a little like Dorothy in Oz and at one point during the rehearsal I imagined Wizno and his brothers jumping up and doing a little jig to the 'Lollipop Guild' song down the aisle, but other than that, smooth sailing. Dinner proceeded nicely as well. Octavia chose a lovely citrusy lambrusco which complemented the pecan-crusted catfish perfectly, and the corn maque shue received rave reviews.

Pam arrived, alone, about nine, her attire most out of character. She wore a pair of brown Columbia cargo pants with a long-sleeved pink t and hiking boots, not much makeup, and her hair was falling—get this—naturally around her face.

"What's up with the get-up?" I indicated her clothes.

"Lance is meeting me here after a while," she said. "We're going night-hiking through the Native American burial grounds. He wants to teach me about their traditions."

I studied her face. There was something definitely softer about it around the edges. I could not think of a single comment; I swear I tried, but I just continued to look at her with my mouth slightly askew.

"Did I miss the dessert?" She asked excitedly, ignoring my demeanor.

"No, we waited for you. Where's Eric?"

"He had to stay at Fangtasia." My heart sank a bit. "He had some straightening out to do with Felipe." Oh. We looked knowingly at one another.

"He sent you this." She handed me an envelope. I opened it to reveal a photo. I frowned perplexedly. It was a four by six glossy print of a cow in a field. No shit.

I looked at Pam, who smirked back. I looked back down at the photo. The animal was standing by a fence, in daylight. Eric could not have taken that picture, I decided, and really, what the hell? Something, though, was oddly familiar.

"He made Bobby drive one road over from Hummingbird Lane and spend nearly the whole day just to lure that cow to the fencepost and snap the photo," she said. "He had him blow another print up and it's framed, hanging right across from his desk at Fangtasia as we speak. I'd love to know what it means." She watched me as I examined it. "There's a note on the back, Sookie."

I turned the photo over and recognized Eric's handwriting.

_**Dear one,**_

_**I have pictures in my head, too.**_

_**Love,**_

_**E**_.

I flipped the photo back around and felt the color flooding my face. This wasn't just any cow—it was Joe Montgomery's milk cow, Guinevere.

And that wasn't just any fencepost.

Bloody hell. I started to laugh in spite of myself. That's what he thinks of? That night back in the spring, when I found out the truth about Preston Pardloe and ran Eric down in the road, and we did it against the fencepost while the voyueristic farm animal watched; that's a memory he recalls often? The difference between men and women, jeez—it's overwhelming sometimes, really. Damn if he wasn't a charmer, though, I thought as I continued to giggle uncontrollably.

Pam regarded me curiously.

"Spill," she directed.

"Not on your undead life, Pam." I grabbed the photo and turned away.

I went back to the dining room and started the dessert service, cheered by my little gift from Eric. I set my watermelon bombes on fire and the results were rewarding, all the diners oohing and ahhing, groaning and making monkey sex faces—which was really comical on the brownies, as you might imagine. Pam watched with a fascinated and lascivious air.

I made Pam a dessert blood, True Blood O Negative 'Gold' warmed and mixed with a little dark chocolate for depth and ancho pepper for heat. She sipped it appreciatively, and said that it would be a good addition to Fangtasia's specialty drink menu, and the only item on there for vampires. I preened a bit; all my creations had been quite well-received.

I was happy to see how pleasant everything turned out. Octavia told some hilarious good-witch-gone-bad stories and Wizno played the banjo for a bit, accompanied by Olaf on the harmonica. Amelia and I started to gather the plates.

The scent of the fresh flowers and the wonderful Southern fusion cuisine, the mix of Wizno and Octavia's family that went together just right, started to get to me. I stared a little wistfully at the group before heading to the kitchen.

"What's wrong with you?" Pam asked from the doorway.

"Nothing, just tired," I said. "It's been a long week."

"Yes, and you fucked with my master and I told you not to," she returned. "Looks like the Britlingens will be wearing pumps tomorrow after all."

I hung my head.

"The situation got away from me," I admitted. "I didn't go over there to start trouble."

She pressed her lips together. "The jury's still out. I am getting mixed signals from my master.

"He will be happy one minute, perplexed the next. What are you doing to him?"

"Just trying to work stuff out," I hedged.

"At the beginning of the evening I felt distress coming from him very strongly. I almost drove to the condo to give you a piece of my mind.

"Then a little later you must have done something to make him feel very, very happy. I felt such a quiet joy radiating from him. It wasn't sexual. What did you say?"

"Nunya," I quipped. "And are you supposed to be listening in on the bond like that all the time?"

"Not really, but I've been paying closer attention lately as his moods have been unpredictable."

"What's the verdict?"

"We'll find out tomorrow. In the meantime, how about you try not to screw up anymore," she quipped lightly.

"He told me about the knife at Rhodes," I wrapped my arms tightly around my body.

She lifted an eyebrow at me as she studied the crystal of her dessert glass. "A minor point. And what else?"

"And he told me he wouldn't stop hiding things from me," I added quietly. Pam looked up sharply then.

"Yes, and when he did that, he was more truthful with you than anyone else in your life has ever been," she snapped as she walked out the door.

I sighed and poured myself another glass of wine. The week had taken its toll, and tomorrow was going to be a hell of a day. I decided to steal a few minutes of peace.

I walked outside and sat on the porch step. The dinner had been an overall success, and I just wanted to bask in a little downtime. I was staring at my feet, spacing out a bit when I heard a sound I hadn't heard in a long, long time.

"Sookie," that familiar, cool voice rang out in the night. I looked up to see Bill standing just a few feet in front of me. "How have you been?"

"Bill," I said a little stiffly, sitting up straighter. "You're back."

"Don't get up." He moved to sit beside me on the step. I glanced at him surreptitiously from the corner of my eye. I hadn't seen Bill in forever, since before Christmas. France apparently agreed with him. He was wearing a tight-fitting blue-gray t shirt and jeans with boots, and looked a little like a Euro-rock star, his hair cut and tousled in a fairly hot bed-head way.

It sure beat the hell out of that khaki and button-down history teacher look he'd had going on before he left. It was a good thing, too; I'm not sure how much more of that I could have stood.

"Ah, Wizno's rehearsal dinner?" he asked, nodding toward the house. He had a bottle of blood in his hand. "He mentioned something about that in an email last week."

"Yes," I said, still a little startled at his appearance. I didn't know he and Wizno conversed by email, but it made sense since Wizno had been doing some work at his house. "When did you get back?"

"Last night," he replied, taking a sip of his blood. "It's been six months."

"A lot has happened," I fidgeted with the button on my blouse.

"I've heard."

The silence stretched out between us. I didn't know what to say.

"So," that voice like chilled water washed over me again. Bill turned to me with a penetrating gaze. "Are you going to hate me forever?"

My eyes widened at the unexpected question. I felt a little punch drunk from exhaustion, and the ridiculousness of the situation struck me as terribly ironic and funny.

I tipped my glass and finished my wine, and then I leaned over and elbowed him in the ribs conspiratorially. "Of course not," I murmured sarcastically in his ear. "Unlike you, I don't _have_ forever." I leaned back and winked, then chuckled at his shocked expression.

"She's exhausted and not exactly lucid right now," Pam's voice rang out from the door as she walked onto the porch. "I'd advise you not to sit so closely." She glared at Bill.

********

_**Thank you to my beta Wanda W., and to fellow fanfic aficionados and friends Sonjita and Nycsnowbird for their continued support, creative input and inspiration. **_

_**Remember that there is always a reason for the angst, and yes, both Eric and Sookie are still acting characteristically obtuse. I do realize many of you were hoping for a reciprocal action to Sookie's confession on Eric's part, and I'm sure he'll get around to it, but the Viking does things on his own timeline; you know how he is. **_

_**As always, I await your thoughts and opinions, they are the best Christmas present you could give. Look for another spoiler next week on my profile and maybe another short chapter before the New Year, but I ain't promising. God bless, misscyn**_


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N Oh, I had fun with this one, especially toward the end. Thank you to Wanda W., who beta'd this literally from her sickbed, and to nycsnowbird for helping me name the fish! And a great big thank you to all the readers who get my sense of humor, I know I am a hopelessly snarky smartass, and that's one part of myself I don't really want to change. Enjoy, misscyn**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the SVM universe or the Sookie Stackhouse novels. They all belong to Charlaine Harris, but I am still having a hell of a good time with them here. **_

**Chapter 48**

Bill regarded Pam with an impassive expression. I'm not sure, but I think he may have shifted imperceptibly closer.

"Pam," I admonished. "Don't be so rude."

Bill stood up. "Could I speak with Sookie for a moment?" he looked at Pam pointedly. "In private." He held his hand out to me. Reluctantly I took it, standing up and brushing my pants off. I ventured a glance at his face. He looked earnest, determined. Crap.

"I'm tired, Bill," I said. "I've had a long day, a long week actually, and tomorrow's going to be wild. Could we talk another time?"

An expression of resignation crossed his face. "It's something I've been thinking about for months, Sookie," he said softly. "It won't take long." He looked at Pam again, who openly sneered.

I thought for a moment. "I could use a little fresh air," I conceded. "How about we take a walk? I'll show you the garden."

Just then we heard Lance's voice ring from inside the house. "Sugarpuss?" he called through the kitchen. "Oh, there you are," he said as he walked through the door, his eyes alighting on Pam. "Amelia said I might find you out here."

'_Sugarpuss?'_ I mouthed to Pam. "Shut it, _lover_," she shot back. Lance and I nodded at each other before they both walked through the door.

I turned to Bill. "This way," I said, gesturing toward the garden. We walked in silence to the rows. I switched on the lights Wizno hung so many weeks ago so I could show Eric the plants' progress.

Bills eyes glowed. "That's a fine garden, Sookie," he said admiringly. He walked up and down the rows, marveling at the green branches all heavy with fruit. He looked like a kid who hadn't been in a candy store in a long, long time, and I remembered how he had often spoken of how much he enjoyed farming as a human.

I watched him with some amusement; he was really getting into it, gesturing and commenting on what all I'd chosen to grow. I guess he was fine with looking at vegetables; it was the watching folks eating part that bothered his vampiric nature.

"Grab a basket," I directed. "We're gonna use some of the vegetables for the reception fare, particularly the tomatoes and cucumbers."

Bill and I worked in silence, harvesting the mid-season yield. I was lucky; the garden had been a big producer this year, and I expected to reap the benefits well into August.

When we filled our baskets Bill moved to the carrot patch. "No," I yelled quickly. He looked up at me with a question in his eyes. "Only Eric picks the carrots," I explained. He raised a dubious eyebrow. "Eric picks the carrots in your garden?"

"Yes, he does," I said firmly. "This is our garden, but he can't be here all the time to help me pick everything. That carrot patch though, belongs to him and him alone."

"Alrighty," Bill said darkly, brushing the dirt off his hands. "If you say so, but it doesn't seem like Eric to me."

I carried my basket to the potting table and set it down. "A lot of things have changed with Eric," I said airily as I sat down on the garden bench.

"I heard that too," Bill said as he sat in the chair beside me. "Not that it surprises me. I knew when I left he would take you. He's always been determined to have you for his own."

I felt my ire rise at the terminology but took a steadying breath and remained silent. Bill glanced at me sideways.

"Pardon me," he murmured. I inclined my head. "From what I understand, he's been surprisingly good to you and not in the usual way for him." I nodded.

Bill paused as if gathering his thoughts. "I've thought about what happened between us the whole time I've been gone. On the outside looking in, I have a clearer picture now of how you must have felt, how my actions appeared to you. I'd like to clarify some things."

Oh hell.

"Bill, I'm not really in the mood for any more drama right now," I said as gently as I could. "And I kinda blew my entire metaphorical paycheck already at Confessions R Us this week."

He looked at me quizzically.

"Many things have come to light just in the past few weeks. I now have a telepathic great aunt who explained the whole history of my 'gift,' and all the flotsam that goes along with it," I went on. "I have another fairy relative who's looking for me, I found out more people have died in the past trying to protect me than I ever knew, and now it appears that Eric and I are blood-wed, or some shit like that. I'm kind of in information overload right now."

"Blood-wed?" Bill's voice hardened.

"He used a ceremonial knife when we bonded in Rhodes," I explained. "The same one used in Mississippi's wedding to Indiana."

Bill's hands gripped the sides of his chair. "Rhodes is the gift that keeps on giving," he said dryly after a moment, but the expression in his eyes belied the lightness of his tone.

He looked back down at the ground and pressed his lips together before glancing back up at me. He looked so sad it tugged at my heart in spite of myself.

"I will not force this information on you, Sookie," he said. "I have caused you enough pain. But I think it will make you feel better."

Oh, this was gonna be heavy, I could feel it. I tried to calm myself by listening to the sounds of the night all around us; the incessant crackle of the bug zapper Jason insisted I use, the echoes of voices inside the house, a hoot owl in the woods. _He can't hurt you any more, Sookie_, I told myself. _Remember that_.

"The first night I met you I knew I was screwed," Bill continued ruefully, running his hand over his chin with a slight smile. "You were not in any way what I expected; I felt instantly drawn to you. You were so open and caring, so young and unspoiled. You reminded me of the women I knew when I was human with your old-fashioned Southern ways. Yet you had a fire, a spark that fascinated me.

"That night you saved my life, and the next night I saved yours; we were connected very early on, Sookie, you need to understand this as much as anything."

I studied his face in silhouette. Bill had always been a handsome man, there was no denying it, and, of course, he would always have an effect on me, like it or not. I found I wanted to hear what he had to say in spite of myself. He did seem completely serious, so I waited for him to continue.

"By the first time we slept together, I was gone. Yes, I'd been ordered to do what I did, but I was past all rational thought at that point. I just knew I wanted you—and that night, I wanted to comfort you."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. The first night I slept with Bill was not a recollection I allowed myself to visit anymore. The truth was it had been a precious memory I cherished for a good while before all his betrayals ruined it for me.

"As you lay in my arms that night I stayed alert, trying to figure out how to keep you out of the queen's grasp."

Now that comment did surprise me. I'd always assumed Bill to be deeply in seduction mode that night, a subject playing willing gigolo for his queen. I regarded him with suspicion from beneath my eyelashes.

"Our relationship progressed. After Dallas you and I fell into a routine, almost like a normal couple. But it was a façade, far from normal for me. I was searching, working the whole time, wracking my brain for a solution, a way we could stay together, a way for you to never discover why I came to Bon Temps in the first place; a way out of working for Sophie-Anne."

He glanced at the doubtful expression on my face.

"You would have hidden that from me forever?" I could not keep the accusing tone out of my voice.

"I figured I might have to explain eventually, but I kept telling myself if I could just keep you out of the queen's clutches, you would eventually understand." I smirked a little, and he smiled back.

"I was probably wrong there," he conceded with a shrug before continuing.

"Becoming an Area 5 investigator did not help as much as I hoped it might, unfortunately. The computer program had been in the back of my mind since vampires came out. As the weeks went by I started working on it nonstop. I thought if I finished it, made it good enough, it would distract the queen. It was such a spectacularly innovative and useful concept, with the potential to change the way vampires interacted, as well as to make tons of money. Well, I had great hopes. And it worked for a little while.

"But then my house of cards began to fall. I held Sophie-Anne off as long as I could, but she was getting very close to calling in your marker, Sookie. I literally had days, maybe a week before she forced me to bring you to her, when Lorena called."

He and I scrunched both our faces up at the same time at the mention of Lorena's name, which might have been funny in another conversation.

"I couldn't do it. Call me a coward, but I couldn't face you, tell you what I'd done. I also had to face the fact that I couldn't protect you either. I was too young, with not enough connections to protect you.

"But I knew Eric could." He spread his hands out on his knees and studied them for a minute. I remained silent.

"So I went to Lorena. It was the correct thing to do; she was my maker, after all. I'd messed up with you too badly, couldn't fix it, and I felt ashamed. I knew the program was my only bargaining chip, so I asked you to help me hide it. I knew after Dallas that not only did Eric lust after you, but he had a soft spot for you as well. So I both asked him to go to you, and asked you to go to him … without telling either one of you everything that went on with the queen, of course."

He looked me in the face then. I could see the honesty in his eyes.

"I knew it would hurt you and possibly make you hate me. But believe me when I tell you, I did it out of love."

He looked away again. "That night I told you I was going to Seattle and that you should go to Eric was also one of the hardest of my existence. The expression on your face haunted me for months. When Lorena's betrayal became evident I almost welcomed the torture, every act of pain inflicted on me felt like retribution. I figured I would die and resigned myself to it in that horrible little room at Russell Edgington's.

"When you appeared before me in that torture room, a wild and untamed hope broke free in my chest. I thought somehow, you must love me still. When you staked Lorena I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I still loved you. I'd never stopped. I also knew I wasn't worthy of you, but I hoped, somehow, we still had a chance.

"I thought you did it because you wanted me back. What I didn't realize is that you did it because you were a good person, and you were stronger than I could have imagined." He reached over and squeezed my hand. I let him.

"And then," his voice faltered again, and he spoke barely above a whisper. "Then I betrayed your trust yet again."

He released my hand and rubbed his nervously up and down his jeans-clad knee. I knew what was coming, and that knowledge made me feel numb.

"I never apologized to you for the trunk," I made a strangled sound but he kept talking. "No, please, let me go on. I would give anything, Sookie, if I could take it back. I know you know that I was out of my mind, and that part is true. Still, to have hurt the person who saved my life, yet again, killed another, at great personal peril to herself, and mere hours later to know that I did that—I could not forget it, tore myself up over it for months. Vampires do not place too much emphasis on that type of thing, but I knew what it meant to a human."

His voice became more strident.

"And that wasn't the last time I caused you tremendous pain. I could have staked Eric for making me tell you the rest of it in New Orleans, while you were in the hospital hurting yet again from the attack of another vampire. I still haven't forgiven him that." His eyes darkened and he looked far away then.

"Yet you saved me again in Rhodes. I couldn't believe it. When I told Victor I would die for you, it seemed such a pathetic gesture, even to me, but the only thing I truly had to give."

He didn't speak for a minute, and I became inexplicably irritated.

"Why are you telling me all this now?" I crossed my arms over my chest as I spoke.

"Well, number one, you're letting me; number two; I met a woman in France who helped me to see that you needed to hear it. And three," he looked at me sideways, with a sardonic smile. "As strange as it may seem, I don't want you to make Eric pay for my mistakes."

I wasn't sure I was hearing right at this point. Bill appeared rueful again.

"Sookie, I thought you were this sweet little thing, a simple old-fashioned girl with a quirk, but Eric always knew differently. He saw you for everything you are.

"Not that I give a rat's ass about his feelings," he amended quickly. "But I know that he cares for you deeply, and I think deep inside you care for him just as much; and as much as it pains me to see you with him, I can't deny that you two belong together. And I don't want to see you cheat yourself. You deserve better."

Whoa, that was a lot for Bill to put out there. Instinctively I reached over and squeezed his hand. "Tell me about this woman," I teased, attempting to lighten the tone.

"We are very good friends, and she helped me see many things," Bill said. "After I told her what had happened with you, and how I handled it, she pretty much told me I came across as somewhat of a tool."

I bit the inside of my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

"She said I had to learn how to express myself better; that no one really knew who I was due to my normally reserved and reticent manner. And she made me change my clothes and my hair." He ran his hand through said hair self-consciously.

"That was good," I laughed. "So, is she coming here or you moving to France permanently?" I found to my surprise that I genuinely cared about his answer.

He shook his head. "No, like I said, we are friends more than anything. We still speak, and often. I do prefer Europe in some ways, the vampires there are more relaxed, and I felt more comfortable, but this is my home. Micheline is older than women I usually spend time with, in her early forties. I think I like that, the life experience and maturity that goes along with it."

Now that I thought about it, I could totally see Bill with an older woman. "So just friends?" I asked. "Sounds like you two get on really well."

"It's going to be a while before I get involved again," he said quietly. "Maybe in another twenty, thirty years."

"Don't wish your life away Bill," I kicked his foot affectionately. "Despite my teasing, we both know no one really lives forever. And I thought Selah was your rebound relationship."

"I suppose, in the same way Quinn was yours," he returned. "But we have spoken of Selah before. She didn't even rate as a rebound, really."

I nodded. Selah was still a sore spot with me, but I didn't want to get into it. She didn't matter anymore.

"And the money you told Eric to give me when you left me for Lorena?" Now that was a subject we hadn't covered.

Bill sighed heavily.

"Sookie, I had introduced you to a dangerous world, and I wanted you to have a little security, that is all. Much like Eric procured the Andromeda money for you and Wizno just a short while ago. Your attitude toward money and gifts was always a strain on our relationship. I found your moral high ground somewhat charming and sweet, but unrealistic and totally impractical in the face of our situation.

"You do not live in the little cocoon that you thought you were in when you were growing up anymore, Sookie. And just like in the human world, money, to a certain extent, is power, and can buy safety. Surely you know that by now," he looked hesitant before he spoke again. "I have heard of your success in your position with the two-natured, Sookie. I am very proud of you for making such a change."

I felt a little choked up at this point and managed a small nod. Bill stood up and offered me his hand, ever the gentleman. We walked back to the porch in silence, me absorbing all he had said.

"Are you coming to the wedding?"

"Am I welcome?" he looked at me quizzically.

"Of course, you're invited."

"Wizno did invite me," he admitted. "I would like to be present."

"Well then, be present," I grinned. He regarded me with a bemused expression.

Just then Fintan walked out of the house.

"Fintan!" I exclaimed. I ran up to him and gave him a hug. "I didn't know you were coming tonight."

"Neither did I," he said with a chuckle, hugging me back. His eyes drifted to Bill.

"This is my neighbor, Bill Compton," I said by way of introduction. "Bill, this is my grandfather Fintan Brigant."

Bill's eyes widened a bit but otherwise he didn't see too surprised. He looked from Fintan to me. "You favor greatly," he observed.

Fintan gave him an appraising look.

"Mr. Compton," he replied. "I've heard of you."

Bill nodded. "And Wizno has told me of you also."

"You'll be staying across the cemetery?" Fintan asked.

"Yes for a while."

Fintan nodded. Awkwardly the two men continued to regard one another.

"I will be taking my leave now," Bill turned towards the woods.

"Wait," I said and he paused, turning toward me. "Thank you," I stumbled a bit, not knowing exactly what to say. "Thank you for explaining things. It was very … generous of you."

"It was the very least I could do, sweetheart," he replied evenly, and he bowed in that stiff, oddly formal way of his. For a split second he became the old Bill, and all of a sudden I fought a tightness in my throat.

He turned away again and just like that, he was gone.

Fintan and I looked at one another. I recalled our last conversation, in which he said I would need to talk to Minnie about my history before I spoke with him again.

"I spoke with Minnie," I said. "She explained a lot of stuff, but I guess my biggest question for you now is why my grandmother felt the need to hide so much from me."

Fintan appeared lost in thought for a minute or two before he spoke.

"To summarize, I believe she wanted you to see the human world first, so if you gave it up you would know exactly what you were losing," he said solemnly. "She tried to raise you with an open mind toward all people, so that you would be prepared, but she didn't want to cloud your judgment with knowledge of the other world before you were ready. In other words, she wanted you to have choices she never really had. It's what every parent wants, when you think about it."

I looked at the ground as I registered his words. I wanted to ask more, about Porter, and Andrea, but he spoke up first.

"There is a reason for my visit tonight. I've gotten word that this gathering tomorrow is attracting a lot of attention. There are going to be a good deal of uninvited guests, I have heard through the grapevine." Ewww, that's not good.

"This wedding is indeed being billed as the Supernatural Event of the Year. Be prepared."

I felt a little panicked. "What are we going to do?"

"I brought a case of fae-scent-cloaking cuffs and capes; you're gonna have to tell your vampire friends to wear both because I'm sending fae guard," he stated firmly. "I will offer all the help that I can, and so will Niall."

"Do Wizno and Octavia know?"

"Yes, we've just been speaking," he said with a smile. "They were alarmed at first, but now I think they are both tickled at being the center of such attention."

_Yeah, you're lucky you got here after they finished off that third bottle of lambrusco_, I thought darkly.

"I must go. You and I will converse more later. At some point, I would like to ask you to introduce me to my great-grandson Hunter."

I smiled. "Gladly. I've been thinking a lot about Hunter lately myself."

"See you tomorrow Sookie," Fintan said with a smile as he drifted off through the woods, suspiciously close to where Bill walked through. I wondered if he was headed to the Compton house too.

I decided I needed a few minutes to myself and walked up to the cabin. As soon as I got inside I dialed Eric's number and sat down on the bed.

"I hear Bill's been plundering my garden," he answered without preamble.

"You make it sound so dirty when you say it like that," I murmured.

"So Pam says he is back and now picking our vegetables?" Even though I thrilled at the 'our', I knew he was not pleased.

"I had to pick some for the reception tomorrow Eric," I said quickly. "But I didn't let him anywhere near the carrots."

"Well," Eric said dryly, after a pause, "there is that."

There was a break in the conversation. "What did he have to tell you that was so important?" Eric asked in a very casual tone.

"He just wanted to straighten out some old dirty laundry," I replied. "Seems to be a trend."

Eric chuckled a bit. "And did he?"

I thought for a moment. "I suppose. None of it makes any difference anymore, I guess, but I do feel better, and some things make more sense to me now."

He didn't respond to that comment. "How are you feeling?" I asked.

"I'm nearly completely healed," he stated proudly. "Thank you for helping with that, my Sookie."

"You know you don't have to thank me for my blood, Eric," I said a little tartly. "It is your sustenance, and you are welcome to it. I give it gladly."

"I am always thankful for your blood, dear one," he said after a moment. "Last night, however, I believe your words may have helped me to get better as much as anything else might have."

A pregnant pause ensued. The significance of such an acknowledgement by my Viking was not lost on me.

"Are you coming over tonight?" I managed to squeak out.

"No," he said. "I have a—project—I have to finish up, my dove. I would like to spend time with you, but we will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Oh, about that," I returned quickly. "Fintan came by and said that we should expect a lot of party crashers tomorrow night. He brought capes and cuffs for the vampires, and said he would be sending fae guard."

"I heard that also," Eric said. "Probably a good thing Batanya and Clovache will be there. I will send bouncers and other protection. Tell the witches to put up some wards. We don't want any Andromeda backlash."

I hadn't thought about that. "Where is John?" I asked worriedly.

"I sent him back," Eric said. 'I was obligated to by intergalactic treatise."

"So why are you worried?"

"Not really worried, but we should take precautions. When you have so many Supes together it could be a target for several different groups, so we will be prepared," he stated matter-of-factly.

Well, snap, I thought with a sinking feeling. Always something.

"I have to get back to work on my project, lover, I will be up until dawn." Oh no, I wanted to see him.

"Alright," I said softly.

"Call me if you can't sleep, love. I'll be right here."

I hung up the phone, absently, missing him already. I couldn't dwell on it for long, though, as I couldn't help but wonder what the next day would bring. The 'Supernatural Event of the Year' as Fintan so eloquently put it, would literally be taking place in my own backyard.

I showered and went to bed, sleeping fitfully. About 4 am I woke up and got a glass of water. I figured Eric would be up, and he did say I could call him back, so I did.

"You really need to sleep," he admonished on answering.

"I'm panicking," I admitted. "I'm not sure we are going to have enough refreshments tomorrow. Can I buy a couple of cases of True Bloods from you?"

"Already taken care of," he said smoothly. "I'm sending a bartender to help Sam and a wide selection of beverages."

Figures. "Thank you," I said gratefully. "I guess I'll let you go back to work now."

"I have made good progress. I can take a break," Eric said quickly.

"Are you at home now?"

"Yes."

"How are the fish adjusting?" I asked. "I meant to ask you that earlier."

"Berta lets the clown hang out in the anemone but she still treats him with a good deal of disdain," he said. "The tang has explored the tank and captured the attention of anything female that's around, but it's clear that he realizes Berta is the queen of the water."

"Told ya," I returned playfully.

"I've named the clown Menelaus and the tang Poseidon. It remains to be seen what will happen."

"Menelaus, who lost his wife Helen of Troy, and Poseidon, the god of the sea?" I mused. "Why, Mr. Northman, if I didn't know better I would say you're pulling for the tang."

"He has a certain potential, but in the end it goes against nature."

"Well, all I can say to that is that since I've been in your world I've come to realize that Mother Nature often takes liberties," I retorted. "Perhaps she will bend the rules a little farther for our aquatic friends."

"Have you ever met Mother Nature?" Eric replied sharply. "She can be a real persnickety bitch."

Is he kidding me? Is there actually such a being? My mind flashed to that old margarine commercial they played on TV Land when I was a kid, the one with the middle-aged woman wearing a daisy-chain crown, and that catch phrase _'it's not nice to fool ...'_

"Does she really exist?" I asked breathlessly.

There was a brief silence before Eric erupted into what only can be described as copious guffaws of laughter.

"Jackass," I snapped but he just kept laughing.

"Oh my Sookie, I hope you never completely lose your gullibility," he said after a few long minutes, in which I swear he put the phone down while he sputtered. The merriment was still evident in his voice. "You do amuse me so."

"Glad to be of service," I huffed. "I'll let you get back to work."

"Not so fast," he said seamlessly, all traces of laughter gone. "What are you wearing?"

"We are so not doing that after you laughed at me."

He grew quiet. "Tell me what you would do if you were here," he said in that smoky voice. "If we were together, in my bed, right now."

I could feel my cheeks as they pinked.

"Eric, most of the time when I'm in bed with you I feel like I've lassoed a tornado and I'm just trying to hold on," I admitted. "I don't know if I can describe it."

"Try lover, for me, just start out slow. You don't have to talk dirty. Let me see it through your eyes. Just tell me what you like, for just a minute," he purred.

Well, all right.

"I love your arms," I admitted shyly. "When I'm wrapped in them I feel like nothing can touch me, nothing will ever hurt me again. if I were there I would wrap them around me and put my head on your chest on that patch of hair right between your pecs, and rub my nose in it because I love the way you smell, every inch of you. I don't have a vampire's sense of smell but I swear if I were blindfolded in a room full of men I could recognize you by the scent of any part of your body, I know it that well.

"I would nuzzle your cheek and toy with the cleft in your chin and watch how your eyelashes sweep your cheeks. I would run my hands down your arms, to those huge hands that swallow mine, I would kiss your long neck and along your ears and bury my hands in your hair.

"I love your hair, how thick and golden it is, how it springs from your forehead. I love how every bit of you is unapologetically huge and masculine and male, and I love how it is all mine."

There was a silence and I wondered if I had said too much or if the connection had been lost.

"Hello?" I squeaked.

"I am here," he returned solemnly. "Go on."

I took a breath."I love how nothing we do ever really feels dirty, it just feels right. I know right now you're probably touching yourself," my blush deepened here. "With any other man in the universe that would creep me out. But not with you, it's just you, and the way you are, and it's beautiful and right, and real.

"And that's how sex is with you, it's just real, just the way it should be, and even though I may get embarrassed and probably always will from time to time, I am never ashamed. And that's really, really important to me.

"You told me once I was spoiled for humans, which is undoubtedly true. But the truth is I'm spoiled for anyone else other than you, for all of the reasons above, and so much more."

Silence again.

"I'm still listening," he said, clearing his throat. "You only got as far as my arms."

"If I were there with you I would touch you ..." I closed my eyes. Can I really do this on the phone? Man up, Sookie, I told myself. He wants you to do it. Like you just said, nothing with him ever feels wrong.

So I let it go, graphically and profanely in lurid detail, every word, every description of how I would touch him, how I would make him feel, and how it would affect me. I held nothing back, and I'm sure my face was entirely purple by the end─my ears themselves were completely on fire─and I'm sure it was my imagination, but I felt like the heat of the phone nearly burned my hand.

He was so quiet I wondered if I'd lost him again but I kept going. Right in the middle of a most salacious detail, I heard a grunt and the distinct sound of his cell phone as it fell from several feet and hit the walnut hardwood floor of the condo. I nearly executed a fist pump in the air as I muffled my triumphant crow.

I waited for a few victorious moments, a huge shit-eating grin splitting my face.

I heard the phone as he fumbled for it. "Still there?" his voice rang out hoarsely.

"Where'd you go?" I asked in an innocent tone. I heard the laughter rumble in his chest.

"You know where I went," he returned in a voice that was somehow relaxed, yet electric with awareness at the same time. "You know what you do to me."

If possible, I smiled even wider.

"Now it's your turn," he smoldered wickedly.

My grin faded. "Oh no," I squealed, suddenly shy. "I'm good, got to go to sleep, you gotta work. I'll talk to you tomorrow." I clicked the phone shut. Stupid, I know.

It rang back instantly.

"Do not hang up on me," he growled. "Do not run from me, even on the phone. And for the record, I never take without giving. It is poor form."

"I told you I'm fine," I said, all the while a traitorous anticipation coiling in my breasts and lower abdomen. "Don't worry about it."

"Hush your mouth," he shot back, and then he began.

**********

**A/N Don't hate me, I had to end it somewhere, after all; and the next little section is going to take a little time and inspiration. I hope you all had a lovely holiday. For me, crazy biotch aunt struck again, on New Year's Day this time, and I am currently not speaking to half my family. Sigh. The beat goes on. **

**My New Year's resolution is to try to think differently. Also, to try not to get into any more screaming, cussing fights with my relatives on the phone. I'll let you know how that works out. If you want to know more about why I had to pull Bill into my story at this late date, the reason will be posted on my profile. **

**As always, I'd love to hear from you, it does cheer me so. Take care, misscyn**


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N Okay, cracker crunchers, so I'm obviously not going to finish this story up by its one-year anniversary, which is today, but at least I got a chapter out! All I can say in my defense is that if I had my shit together I wouldn't spend so much time writing fanfic, anyway.**

**Thank you to Wanda W., my beta and creative consultant, and muses Sonjita and nycsnowbird, who helped with inspiration on this chapter. Violhaine, lady, I did my best. **

**And please cut me some slack for being a scatterbrained, disorganized creative type. I'm trying guys. I have my own band of nasty little demons, hot on my heels at varying times. I bat them away and deliver this to you; blow out the big number 1 candle on the cake, it's been a hell of a year …**

**Chapter 49**

"Do not worry. We will go slowly, my dove," Eric crooned darkly, and I swayed a bit in spite of myself. "Trust me, I am very, very good at this. I'll take excellent care of you here." I balanced my body with my free hand on the mattress, gripping the phone with my other for dear life.

"The first time I saw your breasts I knew they would be mine," Eric started right off and I stifled a squeal as I plopped back on the bed. I could tell by his tone this was a very fond memory. "You were unconscious and undressed from the waist up. Chow, Pam and I drank the maenad's poison from you, each holding you in our laps. We argued over whose turn it was, who held you the longest, the entire time.

"I thought Bill was going to have an apoplectic fit. I myself wanted to smack Pam and Chow for leering and lusting after those luscious globes of flesh, with the perfect, pale pink nipples, pointing up to the heavens as we all drank. I gazed at them hungrily, unabashed, and I cared not who saw me or if it offended Compton; not in the least. I had no doubt in my mind that I would one day, and soon, take you to my bed."

I shifted slightly against the pillows. He took his time, speaking in a very deliberate, painstaking manner.

"Look at them now," he said, and my eyes wandered down. "Run your hands over them as I would Sookie. I will never tire of touching them, kissing them, squeezing them."

I let out a little moan. "Don't stop touching them," he said softly. "Keep moving your hands across them while I speak, very slowly, we are in no hurry here, just caressing yourself at your own pace. I will know if you stop. Can you do that for me?"

I made a small sound and switched the phone to my left hand as I did what he asked.

"You awakened possessive and protective urges in me that I had believed to be long lost. I wanted to touch you, have you. As I was drinking from you I had a sudden and irrational urge to pick you up and run with you, take you to somewhere both secret and safe, keep you for my own," he said in a hushed tone. "If you hadn't been on the verge of death, I'm not sure I could have stopped myself from doing just that.

"And then you regained consciousness and opened that mouth." I could feel his wicked grin through the phone. "But I refused to let your defiance and irreverence sour my desires; instead, much to my surprise and dismay, they had the opposite effect." I wondered briefly what he meant by that.

"After you healed, seeing you standing there in my office, naked except for my shirt and a scrap of lace, oh how I thought of that for many months, my Sookie. I wanted more, wanted what Bill had taken. He was in over his head with you, in many ways. He didn't deserve you, didn't know what he had. And he was clueless, such a putz when it came to your safety. I spent many a night ranting and raving, throwing things in my office, over the stupidity and ineffectiveness of Bill as a mate for you. Ask Pam. "

I didn't know what to say to all that, so I stayed silent, still stroking my breasts, albeit absentmindedly. His words were more powerful than my touch could ever be.

"You're a stunning woman, even more gorgeous with your clothes off than you are with them on," Eric continued. "The first time I saw you completely naked I found myself to be beyond pleased. Do you remember that, my lover? When I was under Hallow's curse?"

I nodded wordlessly, and then remembered I was talking on phone. "Yes," I said softly.

"I hated losing my memory, but I am thankful for it. It allowed us to know each other in a way that might not have happened otherwise. Those few days caused me much pain, Sookie, but in many ways they were a gift to us both."

I caught my breath at his words. Many times I'd thought the same thing, but I would have never thought Eric would consider the loss of his memory a good thing in any way. It meant more to me than I could express to hear him voice such a sentiment.

"Your body is full of hills and curves," he said huskily. "I am much bigger than most any man and women so often feel frail to me. Even though you are still small by comparison, l revel in the voluptuousness, the roundness of you. Your body has substance, strength. It calls to me, my siren."

Wow, it sure was getting hot in that cabin. "Hold on," I said as I hopped out of the bed and ran over checked the thermostat to make sure the air conditioner was still on. I'd set it at 72 degrees; quickly I turned it down to 68, then ran back to the bed in and hopped back in. "I'm back."

"You are beautiful between your legs," his voice became melted dime store caramel, warm and buttery, smooth and gritty all at the same time. I thought I was going to die right there. "That cannot be said about all women. You must understand this."

I realized he was waiting for a response. "Okay," I replied shakily.

He chuckled. "That's why I spend so much time down there, lover." All right, at this point I wished someone would just dip my entire body into a vat of red paint and be done with it. I could feel my heart beating in my chest and my ears were thrumming with the blood rushing through my head. I'm too young to have hypertension problems I suppose; but seriously, can this be good for a person's blood pressure?

My hand made its way to the waistband of my pajama pants.

"Are you touching yourself below the waist now?" Eric asked. _Damn, _I thought as I looked around the room hurriedly_, is there a webcam in here somewhere?_

"Take off your clothing," Eric said. "When you are bare lay back on the bed with your legs spread." I froze. "Do it now."

I scrambled to get my pants off and kicked them to the floor, then leaned back against the pillows.

"Wider," he said. I complied, grumbling under my breath.

"Look down," he directed. "Do you see how beautiful you are?" I said nothing. "Do you?" I made a little sound then.

"Surrender to me, Sookie," Eric said. "You need to let go now." Memories of Jackson washed over me and I felt all the fight go out of my shoulders.

An air-conditioned breeze moved across my most private parts, accentuating my so very personal exposure. I felt vulnerable, open. I waited.

"Stay with me now, here in the moment," he said. "I have you, lover. I will always have you." I slumped against the headboard, a rag doll in need of a good fluffing.

"Run your fingers inside, feel what I feel." The honeyed, hypnotic words rolled off his tongue. I did as I was told.

"As my hardened flesh meets yours, all warm and soft and welcoming," he growled, "you are slick, smooth silk at the beginning, hot velvet when I'm all the way inside."

Oh, my.

"When your body holds me as tightly from within as my arms hold you from without, we are as one, I am complete, and completely yours. You're beautiful, firm and lush; I fight the need to consume you. "

My hand plunged deeper almost of its own accord.

"Tell me," he continued matter-of-factly. "Do you pleasure yourself much? You know I would never torment you with such a question if I didn't have to."

I did not know that, as it were.

"This is not fair," I retorted. "I didn't ask you any mortifying shit when it was your turn."

"Women are more complicated than men when it comes to these things," Eric said oh so smoothly. "It is necessary, my sweet."

I grew weary of the heat in my cheeks.

"I am waiting."

"Not so much anymore," I replied.

"But you do and you have," he pressed.

I stopped touching myself in irritation.

"Keep it up," he warned. "And answer my question."

I drew a calming breath.

"Yes Eric, I pleasure myself. I used to do it quite often. I lost my virginity very late, and I was a horny teenager like everyone else."

"And you think of me when you do it now," he stated in a very self-satisfied manner.

"Almost exclusively," my voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Mmm hmmm," he said, not rising (figuratively at least) to my bait. "And when you were with Compton and the tiger, did you ever pleasure yourself and think of me?"

"Oooh, that is _so_ none of your business, mister," I ground out.

"Answer."

I knew he wouldn't give up. By God, if we're gonna talk about it, let's talk about it.

"I had a wide repertoire of men I used for that purpose during that time," I said loftily. "You were a favorite, I must say."

Silence.

"That's good to know," he returned in a careful tone. "You were a favorite of mine also."

"I'm flattered," I huffed.

"You should be, my dear," and he was back seamlessly to seduction. "I have known many women, but few, if any, have captured my attention sexually the way you have. Do you know why this is?"

"Pray tell," I returned as provocatively as I dared.

His voice sunk a few octaves lower, if that is possible. "You spoke of my scent. In addition to everything I have already mentioned, your scent when you are aroused is much stronger than the average female's."

What the hell? Holy shit, did I really need to know that?

"Nice," I quipped. He ignored me.

"It's an intoxicating mixture of woman and musk and blood-engorged flesh, laced with fairy and something I can't put a name to, it's just you. It's what finally brought my memory back that night of the takeover in your bedroom. I can't get enough of it, I crave it, I dream of it in my daytime stupor."

It would really be unfair of me to stroke out the night before Octavia's wedding, I told myself sternly as I tried to maintain some kind of equilibrium.

"Keep working," he reminded. "Do not fight me, remember. Stay relaxed, stay with me."

"I got this end, buddy," I stated. "You just keep talking that trash."

Our heated little exchange had only fueled my arousal, sick, twisted woman that I am. There was no point in trying to hide it; I knew he could gauge my breathing and sense exactly how he was affecting me.

"I could fuck you forever, my dove, and if I get the chance, believe me, I will. I could kiss and lave and feel and glory in every inch of you. I have, and I will, and you will know no other ever who will do to you what I intend; I have plans for you, Sookie. You and I so far have hardly been introduced."

"Well," I cleared my throat. "It's always nice to have something to look forward to." I remembered Gran telling me that same thing in a sing-song voice when I was a little girl, and I nearly giggled out loud.

At that moment he got graphic again, in very small, deep detail and I squeezed the phone so hard I thought it might break with one hand, working rhythmically with the other. At one point I pulled the phone from my ear and studied it, trying to see if there was a 'record' button, but he was still talking and I was missing something so I hurriedly put it back. A minute or two later I almost got to the edge, but drew my fingers away from myself, as difficult as it was, right before the finale.

"Wicked girl," he said thickly, and I realized my response was arousing him again. "You want to drag this out a little? Greedy much?"

"Am I too pushing you too hard, my vampire?" I managed to taunt. "Is that really all you got?"

"Oh no," he replied in a highly sardonic tone. "I have not yet begun," and then launched into a stream of profane obscenity that would make Cleopatra blush, the dirtiest diatribe I had ever heard or imagined, and this included all the debauchery I had ever seen in any human's head. Minutes later I came gasping, crying out, again, and then again, a three point turnaround, all running together, and slid into home dust-covered, sweaty and breathless.

I laid the phone down for a minute, resting my damp forehead against the pillows. After I'd recovered myself I picked it up again. He of course, was waiting. Before he could crow like a rooster I spoke.

"You have a filthy, filthy mouth Mr. Northman," I managed to get out.

"You have no idea," he drawled.

I could have said goodnight at that point, but I also knew he was worked up again. I don't know what got into me; I blame Eric. But I had one little trick up my sleeve that I just knew would catch a certain self-satisfied undead Viking completely off guard. What the hell, I thought with a devilish chortle. Time to turn this ship around.

"Oh Eric?" I said in a lilting voice. "Before we get off the phone, there's something else I need to tell you."

"Yes?" he sounded mildly curious, and still very, very smug.

"You know, what you were saying earlier, about my arousal and scent," I murmured. "Which is really tacky and in poor taste of you to bring up, but nevertheless, since the subject has been broached, I would like to delve further."

"Delve, lover," he replied indulgently. "By all means, delve."

"When I'm at work," I said in a low, conspiratorial tone, "and you're dead for the day, I think of you at my desk, and I get so into it sometimes. I'm in that big old office building with all those Weres, Alcide and Lance and all them. I think of what we do in bed and I become flushed, a thin layer of sweat breaks out on my body, and I can hardly stand it." I listened closely and heard nothing across the line; nevertheless, I could nearly taste Eric's reaction.

"Are you touching yourself now?" I repeated his words.

"You know it," he returned without a trace of shame.

"What are you wearing?"

"Pajama bottoms," he said. "And a smile."

I could see him in my mind, reclining on that sofa in his living room, all bare-chested with his hair shining in the light of the aquarium. I imagined his twinkling blue eyes, and the square wrist of his right hand flexing as he stroked … lord, help me.

"Were you touching yourself before, when you were doing the talking?"

"You have always been intuitive Sookie, it's one of your most endearing traits."

"Why, thank you," I said, pausing on purpose. Eric let out an unnecessary breath of frustration.

"I find this conversation about your workplace fascinating. Feel free to continue," he said through clenched teeth.

"Like I was saying, I'll be at work and I can't stand it, and I can't wait," I murmur. "There's a conference room on the second floor that no one uses, and there have been a couple of times I've had to go in there, lock the door, and get some relief, because I just can't work, I'm in such a frenzy. I can't go on anymore without some kind of a release, the pressure is so great." I stopped again for effect.

"You have my attention, dove," Eric deadpanned.

"It doesn't take long, but I get all swollen and drenched." Oh God, I can't believe I'm saying this. " I soak through my panties and I can't go around like that, I get afraid someone's gonna pick up on it, you know, they're Supes too, after all; so I have to keep spare underthings in my purse, in my car, in the drawer of my desk at all times now."

I could hear Eric laboring a bit across the line at an increasing pace. He'd already been pretty far gone before I started talking; it wouldn't take long now.

"And I worry so much about it," I whisper. "Because if I ever get killed in a car wreck and people go through my things, they're gonna know what a wanton hussy you've turned me into, and how I think about you, and being with you, all the time."

His grunt was almost inaudible this time, but still I caught it.

"You're such a quick study," Eric said after a blissful pause. "I'm extremely proud. And you are also an evil woman, Sookie Stackhouse. I do miss you so." Tenderness laced his last words, and they nearly did me in.

"Eric?"

"Yes, my lover?"

"You were more than a favorite," I smoothed the quilt on top of my bed, back and forth with my hand. "To be perfectly honest, you've been the—star of the show, so to speak—for longer than I care to admit."

"Likewise, dear one." I could hear the smile in his voice. How it made me happy to make him happy, I mused absently to myself. A moment stretched out between us across the distance, pregnant with meaning.

"Go to sleep now," Eric ordered, ever the commander. " 'Night," I whispered and hung up the phone.

_

After about fifteen minutes, however, it became apparent I couldn't sleep. I looked at the clock again, 4:51 am. I jumped in the shower to cool off. When I got out I began drying my hair and walking around in a fresh pair of pj's. That's when I heard a battering sound outside the cabin.

I walked to the window and looked out to see Bill throwing himself up against the barrier ward, much like Eric had that night of the ice storm back in January.

"Bill, what the hell are you doing?!" I shouted as I opened the door and looked out.

"Testing the wards," he said as he bounced back from the invisible wall again. He still had on his jeans and t shirt and looked uncharacteristically disheveled from his 'testing' efforts. "Fintan asked me to before he left."

"Well, stop it," I groused. "You could wake the dead." Probably a poor choice of words, that.

I invited him in and he walked past the ward up to the cabin.

" I remember when this was built," he observed. "How long have you lived up here?"

"About six months," I said, "Come on in."

He walked around the room and took in my surroundings.

"Very charming, Sookie," he observed. "It suits you."

He looked around. "You don't have a television," he remarked.

"No, I don't watch it here."

Bill furrowed his brow. "I've been patrolling every half-hour since midnight. I was up here about forty-five minutes ago and heard a woman cry out. I couldn't get past the ward, and your cell phone went directly to voice mail. I thought it was a tv program," he looked at me questioningly.

Forty-five minutes ago and my phone went to voice mail? That would have been about the time Eric really hit his stride and I … I blanched, and then blushed.

"I have no idea," I said. I avoided his gaze as I picked up a tube of lotion and squeezed some into my hands, rubbing them together briskly. "I might have been watching something on Youtube on my laptop." Bill narrowed his eyes. He wasn't fooled.

"I'd like to show you something," he said as he moved quietly to the door. "Come with me." He held out his hand.

"I'm not dressed," I protested. He shook his head. "Just put on some shoes and a robe, it's not far."

I pulled on a robe and my bedroom slippers. We started down the hill but my slippers were not suited so Bill picked me up and carried me quickly down the hill and through the cemetery to his house. We traveled up a path to the side of his property and came to a clearing above. Bill set me down and pointed up. I followed his gaze to a huge old oak tree, hundreds of years old. Situated right in the middle of it was a magical little tree house, all lit up like Christmas.

"It's Wizno's wedding gift to Octavia," Bill said. "I've been helping him with the plans through email. He needed to know the topography of the land, and I sold him this plot. She always teased him about living in a tree, so he wanted build her a real tree house to show her how pleasant it could actually be."

I stood amazed. The roof was thatched, the siding cedar-shakes, and all the windows were round. I could see support beams, discreetly covered to look like trees, forming the four corners of the structure. This was one serious tree house.

"Can we go in?" I practically jumped up and down like a little kid. "Of course," Bill said, leading me to the stairway at the base of the tree. The wooden stairs wrapped around the trunk in a spiral, up to a green front door with a little porch. Bill drew a key from his pocket and opened the door, which made me laugh for some reason.

I walked through the door holding my breath. I gazed about the living area in absolute delight; it was an adult-sized dollhouse, whimsical and magical, just like Wizno and Octavia. It had a little living room and a pretty good-sized kitchen and half-bath on the first floor; more stairs wound their way around the trunk, which ran through the left side of the house, to a bedroom and a nice-sized bath on the second floor. All the furnishings were rustic, but not in a country way, more of a hobbit-hole way. It reminded me a lot of that tree house in _The Swiss Family Robinson_.

"A bathroom?" I squealed. "And a kitchen?" I bounded from one delightful room to the next, marveling. The workmanship was painstaking, and just, well, just full of heart. The floors and the ceilings were all reclaimed oak, polished to a high shine, and the walls were antique bead-board. A big, round skylight dominated the middle of the bedroom ceiling, and you could see the tops of the trees and the stars clearly through the beveled glass.

"How is there plumbing?'

"We had to get creative with that," Bill said. "We had the contractor bury a pump underground, and there's another one above the house. The pipes are run along the branches of the tree and camouflaged to look like bark."

"And electricity?"

Bill nodded. "Also underground, and connected through the tree," he said. "When I got home last night I readied it for internet. It's good to go."

"I can't believe I didn't know this was going on," I said. Bill looked proud. "Wizno started on it before the Andromeda battle, but since then he's had the money to hire contractors round-the-clock. He had to work very hard to keep it a secret, but brownies are wily like that, you know. Also, I think Fintan helped, because there is a good deal of fairy magic imbedded in this house. The magic sped up the construction process a good bit also."

"It's lovely," I breathed. "Octavia is totally gonna freak."

Bill smiled. "Wizno asked me to show it to you. He said he wanted to but couldn't get away from Octavia long enough to do it."

We walked out the door and Bill locked it back before we descended the stairs. I looked around the clearing at the base of the tree. It looked like someone had been working on a quarter-acre spot to the right of it, cutting down scrub and burning off brush.

"Why is this spot cleared?" I asked.

"Oh, I'd marked off the perimeter of a house I'd planned to build," Bill said. He pointed to the ground where I could see string and wood stakes marking off the shape of a medium-sized house. I could tell they had been there a while; a year or so at least, as the string was quite dingy from the rain and the wood, once yellow, now had a gray sheen.

"Really? When?"

"When we were together," he said simply.

"Oh," I said, struck dumb. "You planned to build a house when we were together?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

"I knew you wanted to stay in Bon Temps, and wanted to keep your home," he said. "But both of our houses are so old and full of ghosts. I thought we might have something new together."

I swallowed as I stared at him. I know my mouth dropped open at least an inch. He walked over to the stakes and string and started pulling them up, deftly, efficiently. Each one he pulled out of the ground felt like he was ripping off a Band-Aid. As the meaning of his words and actions this evening sank in, I arrived at the only conclusion a reasonable person could.

Despite all the unholy crap that went on, in spite of everything he put me through, Bill loved me. Really and truly, he did.

My eyes watered in spite of myself, and a few tears escaped before I could stop them. I could not help but grieve just a tiny bit for everything that we'd lost, for what might have been.

Bill straightened and carried the string and wood to a pile of debris. I dashed my hand across my face, but I'm sure he could see the tears in my eyes. He regarded me silently for a moment, and then without a word picked me up and carried me, at vampiric speed, through the woods and back to the cabin.

Gently he set me down in front of my door.

"Are you happy, Sookie?" he asked. "If you don't mind me saying, you seem to have come a long way since I left."

"I'm getting there," I smiled through my wet eyelashes. "You need to go to ground."

"I know. I just wanted to show you that and check the woods one more time," he said. "I'll be around to help tomorrow evening, too."

"Well go on then, you'll be no good to me if you get fried by the sun," I joked.

"I told you I would die for you, sweetheart," he said solemnly. "I hope one day you understand that I meant it."

He turned and walked toward the line of trees. His last words needled at me for some reason.

"Hey Bill," I called out. He turned around.

"Do me a favor and don't ever die for me," I said, a bit more tartly than I had intended. "You see, that way, you lose your life, and I spend the rest of mine feeling guilty about it. Not a win-win in my book."

His lips switched and his eyes darkened.

"It's good to see you haven't changed too much, Sookie," he said evenly, and turned back around toward the edge of the moss circle.

"Oh, and Bill," I called out again.

"Yes?" he half turned back.

"You are forgiven," I said. "For all of it."

He bent his head toward the ground and looked away. I could see him, could feel him as he struggled for words. He nodded quickly, and then disappeared into the trees, in that way that he always does.

I closed the door. Twenty minutes to sunup, I lay back on my bed and tried to get just a little sleep.

************

**Ending A/N Did I mention that I baked a big ole **_**lemon**_** cake for the anniversary chapter? Hee hee. Actually it's buttercream, with a pale yellow, lemony frosting, decorated with purple morning glories and frosted green leaves … I'm ready for spring. **

**Gotta focus now. Seriously, but I had to finish up both conversations. Tomorrow's the big event and a helluva deal for Sookie and the gang, you all get some rest now, it's about to get a wee bit hairy. And thank you for stopping by my party, I'd love to hear from you. Take care, misscyn**

**1/15 I put this note on my profile too- it may be a while before I get Chapter 50 out guys, I have the flu, a big case of writer's block and a bad case of the blues. Don't give up on me, I haven't bailed ship yet, misscyn**


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N Okay guys, just so everyone's clear, the wedding's gonna take up probably three chapters. Sorry, but a lot of shit's about to go down, what can I say? I'm just glad the big day's finally here, myself. Thank you to my most wondrous beta Wanda W., and to all my faithful readers and reviewers, some of whom have been with me since the beginning. I may not be able to respond to each of you, but rest assured, I do love you all. **

**Chapter 50**

I awoke to a thunderous pounding on the front door.

"Sookie!" Amelia yelled, relentlessly banging again. "SOOKIE GET YOUR ASS UP, IT'S TEN O'CLOCK!"

I stumbled to the door and pulled it open, rubbing my eyes and yawning. Amelia stood on the porch looking pert and chipper, her hair spiked in that signature way, dressed in a tiny pair of white shorts, a blue Hawaiian print halter top and a pair of flip flops.

"Weddings are bullshit," I mumbled. Holy hell, I thought as I stretched and yawned, it sure made sense that I'd overslept, given all that had gone on the night, or should we say, early morning before.

"Girl, game on," she said emphatically. "I lied to Octavia and told her you'd been up and gone to the store already. She'll skin you alive. You better get dressed."

I turned back inside and started grabbing clothes. I'd showered a few hours before so quickly I brushed my teeth and hair. I pulled on a pair of tan capris, a tissue weight salmon-colored tank, and a pair of green rainbows. Amelia handed me a travel mug of coffee, with cream just the way I like it. Gratefully I took it as we made our way down the hill.

"We have a situation," she said, as we dodged the brambles. I made a mental note to clip them later.

"The garden is full of brownie children," she continued.

"What?" I swatted at a bee.

"Brownie children," she said slowly, as if speaking to a muddled individual. "Wizno's ex-wife and her sister-in-law dropped off his youngest and a few cousins while they went to run errands or something. They're playing in the garden now, but what am I supposed to do with them? I don't know how to take care of baby brownies."

"How many?"

She shrugged. "At least four or five." I groaned.

"What the hell were you doing last night?" Amelia asked as we walked. "The Were guards stopped by the house for coffee early this morning and said you were up all night running all over the woods with that Bill." She wrinkled her nose.

"What Were guards?"

"The ones Eric sent late last night. They reported in this morning to alert you of their presence, but you were still in bed."

Crap.

Just then I heard yelling and cussing coming from the direction of Jason's house.

"What's going on down there?"

Amelia grinned widely.

"Oh, Jason went out with Wizno and his brothers for a little bachelor-type party at an underground supe bar in Shreveport last night," she said. "They all got way wasted and crashed at Jason's. The brothers got up early and realized how filthy the house was. They've been cleaning and pinching him all morning, and he's too hungover to do anything but lie in the bed and yell."

I started to head for Jason's to do some damage control.

"Hey, leave it alone," Amelia grabbed me by the arm. "I went down there a few minutes ago and the kitchen is sparkling, but the rest of the house needs to be finished in case someone wants to use the facilities tonight." After I thought about it a second, I couldn't help but smirk a bit at the thought of Jason getting pinched for his slovenly male habits.

We reached the garden and I looked in. Sure enough, two little boys and three girls, ages about five to eleven, were playing hide and seek among the rows. They were precious, tiny children, dressed neatly and somewhat old-fashioned in calico dresses and dress shirts with overalls. I noticed they all had long hair, carefully covering their little pointed ears. The oldest girl approached me

"I'm Elsbeth," she said. She had red hair and freckles. I wanted to put her in my handbag and take her with me.

"How old are you, Elsbeth?"

"I'm twelve," she said. "I'm in charge until my mom gets back."

"That's nice. Have you all eaten breakfast yet?"

"We found some earthworms in the garden," she said. I tried not to make a face. "And I had some tommy toe tomatoes. I told the others they could eat them, I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind," I laughed a little. "Are you all okay with playing outside?"

"Oh yes, that's what we do best," she said, smiling brightly.

"Are you Wizno's daughter?"

"Just Jonas is Uncle Wizno's," she said, pointing to the smaller boy. "He's five."

Jonas was about the size of a three year old, but the older boy with him, Malachi, who Elsbeth said was nine, was just about the size of Hunter. I went inside to get them some apple juice and cheese and crackers. Amelia looked at me impatiently.

"They're not hurting anything, Amelia, and we can't send them away. She said her mother was coming back. Chill." Amelia shrugged and went about her business.

I sat and drank my coffee and watched the kids play while I worked the phone, coordinating final deliveries. I ordered more chairs and tables, and the Rent-It man was very nice about delivering on such short notice. I called the florist and confirmed Octavia's orders there. I walked around the lawn and garden, mentally working out the evening. The children played together very well, and were extremely well-mannered. Octavia's cousins began arriving; they were planning to prepare the heavy hors d'oeuvres in my kitchen.

It wasn't long before the delivery trucks started pulling in the drive. I was just talking to one of the drivers when a little brownie woman pulled into the driveway in an old Volkswagen van.

She jumped out and hurried up to me. She was slightly plump, with Elsbeth's same bright red hair, and she wore a tie-dye skirt and top.

"Hi," she said hurriedly. "I'm Tula. There's been a bit of a mix-up. We thought the wedding was at two, and it's not until tonight. Do you mind if the children and I hang around here for the day? We'll stay out of your hair, you have such a pretty place, and they're brownie children; they just want to play outside."

"It's fine," I said. "Are you Wizno's ex?"

"Oh, no," she laughed, "They wouldn't do that to Octavia, don't worry. But Wizno's son does want to be here for his father's wedding," she nodded to Jonas.

I had a sudden thought. Hunter was the same age as Jonas, and size as Malachi; and because they were supe children, he wouldn't be able to read their minds. I thought back to when I was a kid, and how I wished for such playmates. Hunter would almost feel normal around these kids.

"My cousin's little boy is the same age, do you think they could play together?"

"Oh yes, they'd love to," she beamed. Quickly I called Remy Savoy; thankfully he was at home. I explained about the brownie children, and although I could tell he thought the situation a little strange, he agreed that Hunter didn't have many friends and would enjoy kids he could relax around.

"I'll make sure he's looked after." I promised. To my delight, Remy agreed.

While I waited for Hunter, Bruno popped in out of nowhere accompanied by several other members of the fae guard. He, of course, was dressed in his signature loincloth/skirt, and bare-chested, ahem. He and the other guards held baskets of goodies, sandwiches and salads and assorted pastries.

"Compliments of Niall and Fintan," Bruno said with a wink. "They wanted to make sure you had nourishment." I felt a rush of warmth for my grandfather and my great-grandfather. It would be hard to get lunch today with everything going on.

"The gourmet grubs will be delivered later," Bruno said.

"The what?" I wasn't sure I'd heard him right.

"Fintan said Octavia would be preparing a White Grub Ceviche for tonight," he explained. "Made with chopped fresh grubs, lime juice, vinegar, cilantro and peppers. It's traditional brownie special occasion fare."

Any residual doubts I might have had about the depth of Octavia's feelings for Wizno after their fight the other night were squashed right then and there.

I chatted a bit with Bruno. As we were catching up, Remy Savoy pulled up in his truck.

"Aunt Sookie!" Hunter called, running up to me. I swept him up in a hug. "You're still pretty," he sighed, burying his head in my shoulder. 'Well, I hope so," I laughed.

"Thank you for bringing him," I smiled at Remy, who was staring at the scene before him slack-jawed. I looked around, seeing it through his eyes. Brownies running around, fae guard in full regal dress, an errant Were or witch here and there.

"We're kind of a motley crew," I said shyly, looking at the ground. "It's going to be a circus, but I'll make sure he's looked after," I assured him. Remy nodded, still looking a little dazed.

"I'll pick him up around dinnertime, say six?"

"That'll be fine."

Jonas came out and grabbed Hunter's hand and pulled him away unceremoniously, in that way children do.

Remy left and I busied myself re-arranging the flower deliveries. Vaguely I heard cars and trucks pulling in and out, but I tuned them out. The sounds of the children playing and laughing, the sun on my face, and the heady scent of gardenias and lavender lulled me into a warm and fuzzy place. I was on a step stool, lost in my own little world and working with a particularly trying arbor, when I heard a noise from behind me and turned around to see none other than Beau Sinclair standing right beside me. I nearly fell off my stool.

He was dressed casually, in jeans and a starched white button down, open at the neck, the cuffs folded back, and some obviously ridiculously expensive cowboy boots. His wore his dark hair brushed back over his forehead, setting off his perfectly tanned face, and his onyx eyes glimmered in the sun. He looked, well, he looked yummy, just to tell you the truth.

He grabbed me by the elbow to steady me, "Sorry to startle you," he murmured as he set me straight on my feet. I looked at him incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

"If Mohammed cannot come to the mountain …." he drifted off and looked a little boyish. "You didn't answer my messages."

I stepped down off the ladder and gestured across the property. "I've been a little busy, Mr. Sinclair," I said.

"I see," he said. "Can we talk for a minute?" I looked at my cell phone. After two, and I hadn't eaten yet.

'I can take a lunch break," I said reluctantly, a little self-conscious about my appearance. It was hot, I was sweating a bit, and my hair was a little mussed from all the activity. Plus, I had not a stitch of makeup on. "Would you care to join me?"

'I'd love too," he said with a little bow.

I went into the kitchen. Octavia was yelling at her cousin Raquel, something on the stove was boiling over and another woman was brandishing a knife at the butcher block table. I squeezed my way around them and grabbed a couple of sandwiches from the fae-catered tray, a couple bags of chips and some sodas, and dove back outside.

"This way," I led Beau over to a table in the shade under a tree, grabbing a tablecloth on my way.

Wordlessly he helped me spread it, and I set our food and drinks out. "I never thanked you for the book," I said, a little sheepish at forgetting my manners. "I have enjoyed it already."

"I'm very pleased that you like it," he said graciously as we both sat.

The children were laughing and playing in the old barn at this point. I waved to Tula, who was sitting on a lawn chair watching them.

"Brownies?" Beau lifted his eyebrow. "Long story," I said.

"You're going to have your hands full tonight," he remarked.

"I'm beginning to realize that."

We began to eat. Beau asked me a few questions about the wedding. "I heard about this event through the grapevine," he said.

"You heard because you're …." I didn't want to assume anything here.

"Part-demon, yes," he said. "Just a smidge. But I still keep in contact with the supe world, it has been necessary, and beneficial over the years. My business is quite tied."

I polished off the last of the sandwich and wiped my mouth. I took a long swing of the coke, feeling nervous for some reason.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"I have two points of interest here today, one personal and one business."

I nodded.

"I've been thinking about you ever since the other night in New Orleans, and I did some checking around. I know about your talent. I also know you've been active in the vampire community for some time now."

"That's true," I conceded.

"Are you seeing anyone?" he asked bluntly. I nearly spit out a mouthful of cola.

"Yes, I am," I said.

"The Viking vampire?" I nodded.

"Is it serious?"

I regarded him narrowly. "No, we're just having a good time," I said with a certain amount of sarcasm.

H e held up his hand in a placating gesture. "What I mean is, is it long-term? Do you see yourself having a future with him?"

The question took me off guard. I stared at him blankly for a moment beforeI drew myself up stiffly. "I can't see a future without him," I replied. "And I hardly see how it's any of your concern."

He smiled in a wry manner. "Well, it's my concern because I would like to ask you out," he offered quite diplomatically. "There is an affair in New Orleans next month, another black-tie event with even bigger oil executives, and I would like for you to accompany me as my date. Also I was thinking," he gave me that dazzling little half- smile here, "that we might have dinner one night before then."

I pursed my lips.

"I'm sorry, but I am involved." I tried to soften my words with a smile. He looked disappointed, but recovered quickly.

"Onto business then," he rubbed the palms of his hands down his jeans briskly.

Just then Bruno approached carrying a large Styrofoam cooler. He lifted the lid to reveal a mound of wiggling black dirt.

"The grubs," he said simply. I shuddered and pointed to Jason's house. You gotta draw the line somewhere.

Beau looked at me questioningly. "Don't ask," I said.

"Your employment contract with Herveaux," he said, lifting a dark eyebrow. "It's almost up, correct?"

"Yes, the six months have gone by very quickly."

"And will they be renewing it?"

"I assume so." I creased my brow. Come to think of it, no one had mentioned the renewal of my contract.

He nodded.

"You realize that many Were businesses are hurting right now. So many are construction-based, the two-natured like to be outside, and that kind of work just comes naturally to them."

I had to agree. Business had been very slow at Herveaux and Sons, and several tense business meetings had ensued. Alcide walked around looking tight-lipped a good deal of the time. I hadn't paid too much attention, because I'd been busy with press releases concerning the downside of the economy and its effects on Supe-based business. My most recent assignment had been to write upbeat news articles about the different two-natured trades for the online newsletter, a daunting task.

"I heard there will be cutbacks," he said. "Your job may be on the block."

How presumptuous! "It's not your place to tell me this," I snipped.

"No, it is not, but I have told you," he said smoothly. "I am also here to tell you that even if they can renew you, things will be rocky for a while yet. I have an offer to make you that I don't think you can refuse.

"Sinclair Oil is doing very well, despite the economy. We just discovered a huge oil reserve off the coast of Louisiana that will provide over the top profit for years to come. In addition we are funding research into alternative energy with some spectacular results already. My company is solid, wealthy, and way in the black." He paused.

"Go on." My stomach started to do nervous little flips.

"I'll double your salary, and that's just to start. I need someone with your ties to both worlds, someone who can move seamlessly between humans and supes, and you've proven that you can do just that.

"I need your PR skills, but I also need your face at events, press conferences, et cetera," he continued.

"And you need me to read minds," I clarified.

"It wouldn't hurt," he smiled.

"I don't use my gift for profit or evil, Mr. Sinclair. I hope your realize that," I couldn't keep the stiffness out of my voice.

"You have to admit," He lowered his voice and leaned forward," if we knew what the powers at OPEC were thinking, it would be quite beneficial; hell, the last time oil went over a hundred bucks a barrel alone their thoughts would have been worth millions—but that's not why I'm offering you the position, per se.

"You would help sniff out traitors within my own business. You would travel, a lot. But make no mistake, Sookie, I live and work in a world rich in international intrigue." His eyes flashed as he spoke.

Did I ever mention how charming Beau Sinclair could be? And boy, did he smell nice. I realized he was still talking and mentally shook myself.

"…I would give you three months annual leave. Sometimes the schedule would be exhausting, and you wouldn't be home for weeks at a time. You and I would work very closely together," he continued.

"I have a private jet and helicopter at your disposal, as well as private cars and drivers. It would be a very high level position, Sookie, but with many, many benefits. As you proved you worth, your salary would go up exponentially. The profit sharing alone would be worth the job change, I do assure you."

"The Weres have been good to me," I said. "I don't know, it's a lot to absorb."

Beau stood up. "Well, think about it," he said. "We aren't a huge oil company, but we're a very wealthy one. We take care of our people. I'd like to take care of you, Ms. Stackhouse." He held out his hand and I shook it.

We walked toward the town car. His driver was standing beside it, waiting. I recognized his brain signature as human.

"The offer will be open for a limited time," Beau said as he turned to the car. "You will get back to me, in say, a week?" I nodded. "Good luck tonight, Sookie."

"Mr. Sinclair?" I called out. He turned back around. "If you're in town tonight, feel free to stop by," I said. It was only polite, after all; here he was, a part-demon, and every other Supe I'd ever met was expected to be at my house tonight. He smiled and nodded, then got in the car. I watched as the driver backed out and headed down Hummingbird Lane.

Was he right? Could my job be in danger? And the one he offered me—it sounded great, but were there strings attached? Freaking hell, I was too busy to think too much about that. I made a mental note to corner Alcide later, and I turned back to the wedding and tried to put it out of my mind temporarily, which wasn't hard, as right about then an eighteen-wheeler with the E(E)E logo pulled into my drive.

Amelia walked out of the house. "You rented from Quinn?" her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. I shook my head. "There's been a mistake," I approached the truck as I addressed the driver.

"I have a note," the burly middle-aged man dug in his pocket and extracted an envelope, then handed it to me.

_Sookie,_

_I heard you might need a fairy-free vampire zone tonight. I'm sending some tents and furnishings, gratis. The king called and requested additional security also, which will arrive later, but these things are my gift. I will not be able to attend, but I do send you my best._

_Thinking of you, _

_John Quinn_

Amelia read the note over my shoulder. "Well, that's nice," she said cattily. "Last time he led the vamps to your house, at least this time he's giving them some place to sit."

"The king's requesting security, that means he's coming," I said slowly.

I watched as two more big men began unloading the truck with two Aladdin-type tents and sumptuous furnishings. I pointed out the only empty space, the far edge of the lawn near the trees.

"Do you think de Castro is bringing his own chair?" I whispered to Amelia as the men carried a particularly royal-looking settee by me. She shrugged. "That's rather ill-mannered, don't you think?" I groused.

"He's a vampire king, Sookie, not Emily Post," she replied as she walked back into the kitchen.

A fairy-free vampire zone might not be a bad idea, I thought. We had the capes and cuffs that Fintan sent, but would it be enough? What if the vamps refused to wear them? Vampires and fairies and brownies, oh my. Weres and witches, a part-demon, the Britlingens, and now Felipe … I sank down on the front steps and put my head in my hands.

"If you're freakin', it's time to start drinkin'," Amelia walked out of the house and handed me a glass of muscadine wine. "Here, have a big glass of Fuckitall."

I took it from her with a small giggle. "Alcohol doesn't solve problems," I said sternly.

"No, but it can help you forget about them for a little while," she returned. We both took a long swig.

"It's going to be all right," she said, patting me on the hand. "This is a celebration, remember, not a political event. And it looks like we're going to have plenty of muscle if things get out of hand." I relaxed a bit at her words.

We sat there for a few minutes. The afternoon sun soon became very hot, and the children grew tired of playing outside. They wandered toward the house, followed closely by Tula.

"Here, you all come in the living room and watch TV, cool off a little." I called out as I stood up and went inside. I sat down at the dining room table. Too many cooks in the kitchen.

"Can you make the chocolate leaves for the groom's cake, Sookie?" Octavia called out. "Sure," I said. A baker would deliver the wedding cake, but Octavia had insisted on baking the groom's cake, a raspberry and chocolate confection. I went in the bathroom and washed my hands, then spread out the washed and dried rose and gardenia leaves we'd saved from the floral arrangements for that purpose.

Octavia brought me the double boiler of melted chocolate and set it on a trivet. "Octavia, you need to go rest," I admonished. "Take a nap, sweetie, okay?" She nodded, looking tired but happy. "I'm stopping in just a minute," she promised as she handed me the pastry brush.

The kids settled down on the rug in the living room, absorbed in SpongeBob. Hunter walked up to the table and watched me as I carefully brushed the chocolate across the leaves.

"Can I help?" he asked, clearly fascinated. 'Sure, Hunter, just go wash your hands real good. I have another pastry brush right here."

He did as I asked and came back to the table. I showed him how to paint the chocolate rather thickly on the back of the leaf, and then set it on the waxed paper to dry. We worked quietly side by side. I stole a sideways glance at him. He was a cute little boy, with the dark hair damp from the heat and curling around his sun-flushed face. He appeared old for his age, a sure sign of telepathy, I thought with a sigh.

"I'm not old, Aunt Sookie," Hunter said without looking up. "I'm just a little kid. " Oops, gotta watch myself around this child; you'd think I'd know better than anyone.

"Jonas found an inchworm in the garden," he continued conversationally as he dipped the brush in the pot of chocolate.

"Did he eat it?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. Hunter furrowed his brow and shook his head.

He concentrated hard as he worked, and in just a few minutes we had finished all the leaves. "I'll put these in the freezer, and in about ten minutes I can show you how to peel the leaf away and we'll put the chocolate ones on the cake," I promised. He nodded.

"Have you had fun here today, Hunter?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," he nodded vigorously. "I like my new friends, Aunt Sookie," he whispered, touching his little fingers to his forehead. "They let my brain rest."

I smiled despite the sudden tightness in my chest. "They let my brain rest, too," I confided.

"Really?" His rich brown eyes grew round.

"Yes," I said softly as I reached over and squeezed his hand. "Your dad will be here soon, but you can come back anytime you want, just let me know, okay?"

"Okay," he said solemnly, then scooted off the chair and joined the other kids in front of the television. I watched them for a moment. As soon as Hunter lay down on the rug, Malachi put his arm around him.

I'd enjoyed the children being in my house. I thought back to my adolescent days, when I worked in the Sunday school nursery at church. It disturbed me to hear the unkind thoughts people would think during Reverend Fullenwilder's sermons, so, often as a teenager, I retreated to the nursery.

Baby's minds are like Play-Doh, unformed, innocent. At such a small church I would sometimes have five or six babies at a time, but I didn't mind. They were so easy to be around, their needs so simple. A bottle or a diaper, to be rocked or held; that was about it. And I got to do it for a while, too, until several church mothers told the reverend they didn't want crazy Sookie taking care of their kids.

I told myself then that one day I would have a child of my own, and no one could ever take it away from me.

But look at the world I live in now; look at what happened to Minnie and Porter, look what happened to me as an infant, as a child and teenager—hell, what had happened to me as an adult. I thought of the crazy-quilt of a family tree Minnie had presented to me just days before, and all that those women had suffered through the centuries.

Even now, consider all the peril that Hunter would have to face for years to come. A child of mine would be in danger, at most, and, at least, would suffer untold hardships if it inherited my questionable gift. Could I, in all good conscious, bring a child into this world, knowing what it would face?

I knew the answer, and it hit me not like a ton of bricks, but more like a brightly-colored fall leaf falling slowly, but surely to the ground.

"This stops here," I said out loud, to no one in particular. No one seemed to notice.

I will never have a biological child. I could not prolong this madness, could not pass on all the trouble I'd known to my own flesh and blood. I couldn't control what Jason did, or Hunter did as a grown man, but I could control my own actions. I might one day adopt, but I would not pass my DNA onto a new generation.

I waited for the sadness at this revelation to hit; instead, I felt strangely unburdened. It came to me that this concept had been niggling in the back of my mind for some time. I'd made a good decision. I had no reason to grieve.

A couple of the brownie kids fell asleep on the rug. Hunter looked like he was well on his way. Quietly I moved about the room, putting the chocolate petals in the freezer, covering sleeping forms with afghans and quilts.

I needed to work on a surprise I'd come up with for the vampires. The cooks cleared a little spot on the kitchen counter. I'd decided to make blood aspic, like the old-fashioned tomato aspic Gran used to take to special occasion dinners at church. I substituted a high-quality synthetic for the tomato juice, then added the 'vampire-friendly' gelatin I'd found online (don't want to think too much about what that meant), lemon juice and Worcestershire as well as other spices, and put it in the refrigerator. I really should have made it the day before, but just got too busy. I hoped for the best while the children slept.

I cleaned up my mess and got out of the other cooks' way, then walked outside. Everything, miraculously, was coming together. Amelia marched around the yard, Bluetooth in place, attending to small details. The flower arbors were decorated, a carpet had been laid out directing people to the chairs for the reception and mixer, the tables were set, beautifully, I might add; the hors d'oeuvres and drink tables were ready to be filled.

A portable tile dance floor graced the side of the house by the garden, with ample room for the musicians and band. It looked magical and colorful and everything Octavia wanted, I thought with great satisfaction. Speak of the devil, she walked up behind me as I surveyed the lawn.

"What time is it?" Octavia asked. I looked at my phone. "Nearly six," I said. "Are you going to go get some rest?"

"I'm going to try," she said with a laugh. "Tula volunteered to do the ceviche while the children nap, so I feel like I dodged a bullet already."

"Oh, this _is_ your lucky day, lady," I joked. She laughingly agreed.

"Let me know if you need anything," I said. She nodded as she went back into the house.

I heard tires crunch on the gravel and looked up to see Remy Savoy's truck pull up in front of the house. He got out and went around to the passenger side and opened the door. A petite female with auburn hair, very attractive, stepped out of the cab.

I approached them. "I think Hunter's asleep," I said. "He's had a very good day." I turned to the girl and extended my hand.

"Sookie, I'd like you to meet a good friend of mine," Remy said as the girl smiled brightly and put her hand in mine. "This is Andrea."

************

_**Now, I did warn you it was gonna get hairy, didn't I? … next chapter this time next week, muse willing. You all know I'd love to hear what you think, and as always, take care of yourselves, misscyn **_

**_PS Don't forget to check my profile for teasers!_**


	51. Chapter 51

**A/N Better late than never, eh? Thank you to my beta par excellence Wanda W, who got this beast back to me lightning-fast. Also want to give Duckbutt a nod for the hilarious pm'ing session a couple months back that inspired the um, most _colorful_ section of this chapter. And a special thanks to Sonjita, my culinary genius muse; she owns exclusive copyrights to the Plasmapolitan. Our Viking is back at the end, and will be front and foremost for the rest of the story, do not worry, my fellow Norse god addicts. I was going to hold on to this for Monday, but much of the east coast is snowed in and I thought I'd give folks something to read. On with the show …**

**Chapter 51 **

_Andrea_**. **My heart skipped a beat. I held her hand in mine and I tried to read her, but her brain signature was a little fuzzy and reminded me of someone—my heart skipped again when it came to me. Her mind sounded just like my dad's used to, only a little bit coming through, static-y and muddled.

Andrea and my father both were one-quarter fae, the same ratio to human; that would explain the similar brain waves, as well as the fact that they were blood-related. I knew right then it was _that _Andrea, Porter's daughter, and Minnie's grandchild. The only emotion I could get from her was of a slight protectiveness, and it seemed oddly directed at me.

"We have a mutual acquaintance, Sookie," she said in a somber tone, those intense green eyes—_Porter's eyes_—boring into mine. "I do believe you know my aunt on my mother's side, Madelyn, who owns the dress shop in Shreveport?"

I nodded as if in a haze. Andrea is Madelyn's niece? Did my friend Madelyn know what was going on? I swallowed. Has she betrayed me, my dear, dear friend? She'd never mentioned a niece, I realized in dismay. My heart screamed _no, no, not another one. Not another betrayal, I can't take it._

"And I know your grandmother on your father's side," I looked her straight in the face. She merely smiled.

"Yes," she returned quietly. "I suppose you do." A tense silence ensued.

"Andrea works with disabled children, and her specialty is neurological disorders," Remy said. "Because of her background she's had some insight in how to help Hunter. She's been a godsend."

"It's not a disorder," I said more sharply than I intended.

"Of course not," Andrea said smoothly. "But because of my knowledge of how the brain works, I have had some success in helping him cope with his—hypersensitivity, shall we say—with meditation and relaxation methods."

I looked at Remy in horror. _He told her?_ What kind of an idiot is he? I knew she was looking for us, but I didn't know that she knew ....

I might not be a mother, and I may very well never be one, but my mommy claws popped out right then and there all the same.

"I'm not letting him go with her," I hissed at Remy, throwing caution to the wind. This situation involved the well-being of a child, and to hell with manners. He looked at me in surprise. "He can stay with me for a while. You don't know who—or what—she is."

Remy frowned, and looked from me to Andrea. "What are you talking about?" She closed the difference between us and reached for my arm. I pulled away.

"You and I need to get together, perhaps sometime this week, and have a long talk. I think you will find an association very beneficial," she smiled.

I stood stonily in silence. Words are just words, they don't mean anything, and I didn't like this development, not one bit.

She squeezed my arm. "I thought I might even come tonight with Madelyn and perhaps you and I could chat for a minute. "

"You might as well," I snapped as I pulled my arm out of her reach. "It's pretty much a free-for-all at this point." I knew it was rude, but the woman had caught me completely off guard. I gestured toward the house. "You all can go on in," I said. "The children are asleep in the living room."

I hung back as they entered the house and dialed Madelyn's number quickly on my cell. She answered on the first ring. "Something you might like to tell me, Madelyn?" I all but snarled.

She gasped audibly. "You met her?" she breathed.

"Yes, she's here, she's ingratiated herself to Hunter's father, the fool has told her about his gift, and now he's leaving with them both, and I'm not a happy camper," I hissed. "She's Porter's daughter, she's been looking for us both …"

"Sookie, it'll be okay," Madelyn soothed. "She means him no harm, I swear it. She only wants to help."

"Why? Why would she? Who are we to her?"

"Sookie, we'll talk tonight, I have a customer, but please just trust me," Madelyn said. "I have to go." The phone clicked.

Well, that's just dandy. I walked to the house, my mind a whirl. I couldn't really stop Remy from taking Hunter, and it was hard to believe Madelyn would lie to me about something so important. Andrea did say she'd be back tonight. I entered the living room, grabbed Andrea from where she was standing with Remy off the dining room and pulled her into the corner.

"If you don't show up tonight and explain all this to me I'm coming after you," I said. "And I'll bring a posse of the scariest supes you've ever met in your life. I know a couple vampires who are just dying to meet you."

"You're over-reacting," she whispered back. "You better be here," I repeated, letting her arm drop.

Remy walked softly over to Hunter and picked him up.

"Come on big guy," he said in a low voice. "I'm gonna take you home now."

Hunter mumbled and rolled back over. My mind was going a mile a minute. How could I let him leave with her? I started to panic, my breath coming in short breaths. Andrea looked at me sympathetically. I wanted to smack her.

"The chocolate leaves," Hunter mumbled. "Oh, right," I said, jumping up to go to the freezer. I put several of the leaves in a Ziploc bag and handed them to Remy. "Just keep these near the air conditioner in your truck and when you get them home put them in the freezer," I said. "He can pull the leaves off and eat the chocolate later." Remy smiled and took the bag.

I didn't want them to leave. "He can stay here," I suggested, trying to sound off-hand. Of course, after the way I'd acted earlier, it was a wasted effort. "He could spend the night. I'll take care of him."

Andrea put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "He'll be fine," she said, looking at me in earnest. I laughed mirthlessly.

I reached around Remy's back and took Hunter's hand. He peered at me through half-open eyes. "I'll see when Jonas is going to be visiting his dad again and you can come back," I promised. "Maybe we'll have a sleepover for you guys, and get Uncle Jason to show you some of his old camping tricks. Would you like that?"

Hunter smiled in a drowsy way, and I ruffled his hair. "I will see you," I whispered. Remy carried him out the door, Andrea behind him. I tried to get in her head again, but only detected even stronger feelings of protectiveness toward Hunter.

I followed them out to the truck and watched them leave. I started pacing up and down the driveway. To occupy myself I did a complete re-con of the property, checking all the last-minute small details. After a few minutes I'd managed to calm myself down. I knew in my heart that Madelyn would not purposefully hurt me or Hunter, and I would get to talk to both her and Andrea tonight.

A flurry of activity to the left caught my eye. Two fae guards were rolling up the portable parquet dance floor.

I approached them warily. "What's going on?"

"I told them to remove that floor," Fintan walked into my line of vision. "They're going to put that one down instead," he pointed to a roll of what appeared to be champagne and black colored tile, a lot like a huge chess board.

"And the difference is … " I tried not to sound snippy.

"Magic," he said with a smile. "That's a magic dance floor. Niall created it years ago. No one can ever stumble or fall on it. Any dance move attempted, no matter how ambitious, will be executed flawlessly."

"Get out!" My mind boggled at the possibilities.

He nodded. "Fairies don't really need it," he replied, only a trace of condescension in his tone. "We are naturally graceful and light on our feet. But we realized it was necessary after we started socializing with humans, as well as some of the other supes."

Well, la-di-dah.

"Niall doesn't like to lend it out," he continued. "I had to talk him into it. Claude wanted a prototype for the club, but Niall refused. He doesn't want it getting in the wrong hands."

"So I if get in there and try to do crazy fancy jumps and twirls it will let me?" He nodded with a smile."That's a heck of a concept," I breathed.

"Now, we don't tell the humans that it's magical," he warned. "We just let them think they're having a really good night."

The guard finished putting up the old floor and rolled out the new one. I'm a good dancer anyway, and on that thing … suddenly I was looking forward to this evening, when I had been dreading it all day long.

"What if the humans figure it out?"

"They won't," he said. "The supes will know, and will take advantage of it. The humans will just think it's a really good band, or that they're drunk. Humans tend to think that they're great dancers anyway; it's just the visual reality," he shuddered here, "that can get pretty ugly."

I harumphed a little bit. "Fintan," I said as realization dawned on me, "You're going to be here tonight?" He nodded. "So you're coming as yourself, not Dermot."

He took a deep breath and stared off into the distance. "Yes, I think it's time, and enough people know already anyway," he said with a shrug.

"You know Andrea is going to be here tonight." His eyes widened. "She is?"

"Yes, she left here a few minutes ago." He looked like he was going to say something, and then thought better of it. "I have some errands to run. I'll see you later, Sookie," he disappeared into the tree line.

A few minutes later Tula gathered up the brownie children and bundled them into the van. The chefs decided to ride into town and get some espresso as it was going to be a long night, after all. Wizno and his brothers busied themselves misting the lawn one last time with chrysanthemum extract to repel mosquitoes and other flying insects.

Octavia disappeared, I supposed to rest, and Amelia went to her room also. I lay back on the couch and had been resting for just a few minutes when a loud wail emanated from the direction of Octavia's room. It sounded like a wounded animal howling. Amelia ran out giggling.

"What's the matter?"

"Octavia dyed her hootchie blue," Amelia gasped, holding onto her stomach and collapsing on the couch beside me. I scooted over as she was practically on top of me. "What?"

"She dyed it bright blue, I kid you not."

"Blue? What the hell for?"

Octavia appeared at the door to her room in a dressing robe. "You need to shut your mouth," she directed at Amelia.

"What's going on?" I demanded. Octavia adjusted the collar of her robe, still glaring at Amelia.

"I got a bikini wax the other day, you know, and all there was left was this strip, but I had a few grays so I saw this stuff in the beauty supply," she said, holding up a box of 'BridalBetty'. I looked closer and read the caption 'the color for the hair down there'. Octavia lowered the box and glowered at me. "I thought I'd try it out," she finished.

"So you wanted a blue cootchie for your wedding night," I surmised. "Looks like you got one, so what's the problem?"

"Well, I didn't think it would dye the dark hair," she said, perplexed, "I just thought it would dye the gray, and you know, I'd kind of like have highlights," she shrugged. "But the whole damn kit and caboodle is the color of a robin's egg, and it looks funny."

"Yeah, you can say that," Amelia snorted. Octavia gave her another withering glance.

I had no idea how to respond. "Highlights, huh," I said, rather lamely. "That's an interesting idea."

"It's not that unusual," Octavia said rather defensively. "They had all kinds of colors, stencils and glue-on Swarovski crystals and such."

I sat back on the couch. "I don't know about all that fancy stuff myself. Gran would say you're gilding the lily."

"Oh I get it," Amelia said, her eyes open wide, "You were trying to knock out 'something old' and 'something blue' at the same time," she slapped her hand over her mouth and rolled backwards, gasping again.

Octavia pointed a manicured finger at her and spoke in a slow, deliberate tone. "Do not think I won't hurt you just because it's my wedding day. You have been warned." She looked at me. "What am I going to do?"

"You could dye it back," I said. "Assuming they have, um, you know, like real colors that actually exist in nature."

"You should just go bald, that's what Samantha in _Sex in the City_ had to do when she dyed her cookie orange by mistake," Amelia said. "Everybody's going bare these days anyway."

Octavia set her shoulders. "I am a woman of age and experience," she said with a certain dignity. "I am not walking down the aisle with a crotch that looks like a shaved possum's ass."

"More like the ass one of those hairless Chinese crested dogs," Amelia interjected thoughtfully. "You know, like the one Molly Shannon had in _Superstar_."

Octavia whirled on in a fury. "I'll put a spell on you, little rich girl, and I won't turn you into any damn kitty cat, either."

"Speaking of which," I interjected, "Can't you just cast a spell and fix your problem?" I waved in the general direction of her crotch.

"Sookie, if I could perform genitalia transformation spells I'd be in Hollywood making the big bucks," she said sarcastically.

"Well, then, somebody's got to go to Shreveport and get you some dye."

We both looked at Amelia.

"I'm the wedding coordinator, she said huffily. "I can't go."

"Everyone is doing something," I pointed out.

"Why can't one of Wizno's brothers go? They've finished up their work."

"Yes, Amelia, by all means, let's get my future brother-in-law to go buy my cooter dye, there's nothing embarrassing about that," Octavia snipped. Amelia rolled her eyes. Octavia had just about had enough.

"Get your skanky white ass up and on to Shreveport before it gets ugly up in here," she directed Amelia. "It's an hour and a half, if you leave now you'll be back by eight." Amelia grabbed her purse without a word and left, obviously in a snit.

Octavia and I looked at each other. "It's going to be okay," I offered by way of comfort. She threw her hands up in the air and went back to her room. I couldn't think of a thing to do for her, so I made my way up to the cabin to start getting ready.

As I walked I started mulling over all the events of the day. And there sure was a lot to think about. The early morning conversation with Bill, the job and personal offers from Beau Sinclair, my time with Hunter, and then the surprise visit with Andrea. I worried about Hunter most of all. However, I consoled myself again with the thought that Andrea did say she would come back, with Madelyn no less, and talk to me. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and tried to reach Madelyn again, but she didn't answer. I decided to shelve those concerns temporarily until I spoke with both Madelyn and Andrea.

I then focused on my conversation with Beau, particularly the hard questions he asked me about my relationship with Eric. Were we 'serious'? What exactly did that mean? We weren't joking, I didn't think. But I had no real way of expressing exactly where we were on the relationship bell curve. And were we long-term? Three nights ago I poured my out heart to him. Last night and the night before we told each other how we felt about each other physically. Although that meant the world to me, I felt like many things were being left unsaid.

I knew Eric loved me in his way—he'd told me as much on several occasions. I knew through the bond, by his actions, and every now and again by his words. I knew by the way he looked at me sometimes in a tender moment, the way a condemned man looks at the jailer when he tells him that the governor's call came through. And while showing is always better than telling, I needed more. I wanted a cards-on-the-table, no holding back declaration, no matter how selfish that was, considering my significant other wasn't really that type. The woman in me knew what she needed, and she also knew she might not get it.

My old friend doubt came out to play, curling its poison tentacles around my troubled heart. A future, Beau said. Eric had said the same thing with regards to Beau. Was he trying to push me away? Was he telling me that our life together was all well and good for the short term, but for the long term I would need another option?

I washed my hair and shaved my legs slowly as I pondered how much things had changed in six months. After Gran died and I no longer had her social security to depend on to help with the household bills, I'd been so poor. I could barely pay my bills, with no money left over for anything. I lived on employee-discounted chicken baskets from Merlotte's and peanut butter most of the time. Now I could afford a few nice things, and buy groceries without tallying up the total as I placed each item in the cart. I'd even helped Octavia out with the expense of the wedding quite a bit, as so many of my friends and acquaintances were coming and I only felt it fair. I had something special planned for the vampires tonight, and I hoped they liked it. Before I changed careers I could never have made such a gesture.

In so many ways, having a good-paying job changed my life. I'd even managed to put some money back. The nest egg Eric provided after the Andromeda conflict sat in the bank, securely invested for maximum benefit. I was in a better position financially than I'd ever been, and I would be lying if I said I didn't value it. Many things bothered me, kept me up at night, but I had known for a good while that I would be able to buy groceries and gas and pay the light bill on time, and it was very comforting.

If I lost my position with the Weres it would devastate me. It's not like I could go to a head-hunting agency and hand them a job search request for a top-notch public relations/telepath position. My job options would be limited, and turning down Beau in that light would be very unwise. I could never go back to waitressing. That was something I'd left behind, and I'd grown so very accustomed to a nice, steady income. Felipe had Minnie now, and might not even offer me any work. I wanted to support myself and get ahead, not just get by. I didn't want to go backwards, and I loved the life my professional position provided. The little extras, like buying the surprises for Eric, helping with the wedding, and being able to spring for lunch or a pedicure made life more enjoyable. I could purchase a book, not just check one out from the library. I had food in my freezer, good tires, oil in the furnace. I had security, and security did not suck.

A higher-paying job would have some important perks, however. My mind went back to Hunter. Every time I thought of him starting kindergarten at that public elementary school in Red Ditch I shuddered. I'd been to that school to talk to the kids before, and it was overcrowded with droves of kids pushing together like cattle in the halls. Hunter needed a private school, maybe even a private tutor. If I worked with Beau maybe I could provide that. Remy certainly couldn't pay for a private school. I made a mental note to ask Tula where the brownie children attended school. I didn't know how receptive Remy would be to such an idea, and, of course, Hunter would one day need to get used to human kids, but the thoughts of him going through what I had in public schools—no, no, I couldn't let that happen, not when he was so little.

I got out of the tub, dried off, and started getting ready. I curled my hair in big, loose curls and fixed it loosely on top of my head, with tendrils falling down. I carefully applied my makeup, a little heavier on the eyeliner and mascara than I usually do. I did my eye shadow, blush and lipstick in pinky golds to complement my dress.

I pulled on said evening dress, one Madelyn found for me, a 1930's 'goddess gown', in pink and gold satin and silk with a long chiffon overlay skirt. I'd found a pair of gold five inch gladiator-type wedges to match that would be perfect for dancing, and also would not poke holes in the lawn as I would be doing a lot of walking around.

My hair had lightened in the sun and my tan darkened. I wore a pair of pearl drops that belonged to my mother with the pearl necklace Eric gave me, and I looked pretty damn good if I do say so myself. The pearls did set off the dress magnificently, and the added inches of the shoes would put me much closer to Eric's height. Usually he was about a foot taller than me in shoes, but with these heels, maybe only five, six inches. And for dancing on a fairy dance floor … it would be perfect, I thought dreamily as I twirled around in the mirror.

I finished dressing and picked up the cabin, paying extra special attention to the bathroom in case someone needed to come up. After I was finished I walked slowly down the hill. The sun was setting and lights illuminated the path from the cabin down to my house. The whole property was lit up beautifully, hundreds and hundreds soft twinkling lights, all along the path around the pond and also up to the cabin. The lawn sparkled with the bright colors of the tablecloths, topped with the colorful flower arrangements and the bowls of Mardi gras dyed meringues, in honor of Octavia's New Orleans heritage.

I walked around to check on progress. While I was in the shower apparently the crew arrived to set up the vampire bar, compliments of Fangtasia, next to the tents Quinn sent. Sam had agreed to man the bar until Thalia could get there. He was setting up the bottle warmers as I approached.

"Hey Sam," I said shyly. Our relationship had been a little strained since I left Merlotte's and I hadn't seen him too much. He turned around to look at me. He'd removed his jacket and folded up the sleeves of his dark green dress shirt. His strawberry blond hair glinted in the evening sun and his hazel eyes gleamed. Oh, I'd missed my friend Sam.

"Hello Sookie," he said warmly. He held out his arms and wordlessly I glided into them. We shared a meaningful hug. It felt wonderful to feel right with him again and I welled up just a little bit. Silently he let me go and went back to work as I sniffled a little, watching him.

As I'd requested, Wizno and one of his brothers brought out a small electric freezer and refrigerator and hooked it up right next to the bar.

"I have some treats for the vampires," I said, pointing to the table to the right of the bar. "Thalia can serve them right there."

"Treats?" he repeated with a dubious expression. I nodded happily.

"Yes, I ordered a couple of things from a specialty store online, and I made a blood aspic, you know, so they'd have something to put on a plate." The table had been set up with the tiny gold forks and gilt-edged plates I'd also ordered from the rental company, complete with two gold fang emblems in the center. I reached in the refrigerator and took out what appeared to be a large ice cream container.

Sam looked puzzled.

"Cadaviar," I said. "It's made with fresh donated red blood cells in a chilled medium." He looked a curious mixture of grossed out and impressed.

I pulled a pitcher out of the refrigerator and grabbed a martini glass, filling it to the brim.

"What's that?" he looked genuinely interested.

"A Plasmapolitan," I said. "It's blood plasma, served room temperature. We even have plasmolives," I pointed to a jar of sticky-looking yellow spherical objects in the shape of olives. "To be served with plastic toothpicks, of course." I grinned. He just shook his head.

"What else you got?" I pointed to a large plastic container of a dark pink crushed ice in the freezer. "Italian blood ice," I said. Sam removed the container and examined the small type on the bottom. "MADE FROM REAL SICILIANS," he read out loud. He looked at me, one eyebrow lifted.

Holy shit, I didn't notice that when it was delivered.

I showed Sam how to mix my dessert bloods, the ancho pepper and dark chocolate one; I'd also added a synthetic blood soaked with vanilla beans and added glucose for a sweeter flavor. I had vodka shot glasses for the Bloody Bloody Marys, synthetic blood with horseradish and fresh ground pepper.

"You sure went to a lot of trouble," he observed.

"Well, I wanted to do something special," I said. "Plus, if we can keep them occupied with the refreshments perhaps they won't be looking to the human guests … " I raised my eyebrows. "Gotcha," Sam said with a wink.

Octavia wanted to serve wine and synthetics as the guests arrived, and open the service on the cheese and fruit table. The hors d'oeuvres were to be served after the ceremony, with the open bar and dancing to follow.

Guests started to arrive. I stood at the front of the lawn, greeting. I noticed Amelia dressed in a lovely dark aqua and black gown. She waved merrily as she passed out fairy cuffs. We still had an hour to go before the ceremony, but people were arriving in droves.

I felt Eric before I saw him, standing near where the cars were being parked down Hummingbird Lane. He looked gorgeous in a dark gray sharkskin suit with a slate blue shirt and a sapphire blue tie. He'd pulled his hair back and the colors deepened his eyes to dark and bottomless pools. I smiled warmly and approached him as he engaged deeply in conversation with Pam, looking fabulous herself in an orchid and black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline.

Eric looked up at me and I stopped in my tracks for a second. His lips were set in a thin angry line, his eyes flashing. Eric was not pleased. I began walking slowly toward him again. His eyes took me in from head to toe, and they softened a bit when he saw I was wearing the pearls, but hardened again almost instantly. Uh-oh.

"My lover," he murmured as I arrived at his side. He reached for my hand and brought it to his lips ever so softly. "Don't you look beautiful tonight? I hardly see how you had time to get dressed when you have been such a busy, busy girl."

Oh, yeah. Someone's not happy.

***************

**_Hold on, the evening's just getting started. Dress links on my profile. I need to thank A Dreamt Theme, who saw Sookie's former shoes there last week and pointed out that they would indeed aerate the lawn; she also reminded me that I should deal with the mosquito problem, this is Louisiana in late June, after all. Look for a teaser on my profile also next week. I'd love to hear what you're thinking, take care, misscyn _**

**_PS I know the food from my teaser didn't make it in. It will be in the next chapter, I made the editorial decision not to post both human and vampire snack descriptions in the same chapter in deference to my readers, it might be unappetizing ..._**

**_Hee hee. I added links for the Chinese crested dog and the cootchie dye to my profile also, all in honor of Octavia. _**


	52. Chapter 52

**A/N Here we are, cracker crunchers. This is a longer chapter than I've been writing lately, hope you enjoy it. I'd like to suggest that you review Chapter 18 before reading this one, it has been a while. Yes, another reference to that chapter, it was a significant one. I never expected to go on this long, but I'm sure glad I did. I know you probably won't be inclined to go back and re-read it but it will help you to follow if you do, I believe, and you will enjoy the chapter more. So, humor me, if you are so inclined, it would make me very happy. **

**To my spectacular beta Wanda W, girl, you get me, and I am so very blessed that you do. **

**Since it has taken me months to get here, I need to remind you that the Andromeda conflict was just a couple of weeks ago, and the events since Chapter 35 span a mere week. Sookie and Eric were in the French Quarter Tuesday night, and this is the following Saturday. The wedding commences …**

**Chapter 52**

I stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. His long, thick eyelashes brushed my lips as he looked down at me, and I shivered at the sensual contact. "Missed you," I whispered as I laced my fingers with his and squeezed his hand.

"Did you?" Eric muttered. I searched his eyes for a clue as to his humor and found only stormy blue gray seas staring back at me.

"Well, isn't this sweet," Pam interjected. "I hate to interrupt, but the Britlingens want to say hello to Sookie," she waved across the drive. I looked in that direction to see Batanya and Clovache deep in conversation with—holy hell, was that Victor Madden? I raised my hand in acknowledgement. They were wearing matching Asian-inspired gowns, lotus pink on Batanya and emerald green on Clovache. I craned my neck to see their feet but Victor and one of his henchmen blocked the way.

Pam smirked as she watched me twisting my neck back and forth. I gave up and glared at her. "You'll find out soon enough, Sookie," she purred.

"Looking forward to it," I ground out through gritted teeth.

"Sookie," a familiar, melodic voice called out from behind me. I whirled to see an attractive woman in a lovely green silk ensemble, with a wide neck and pleated skirt, ala' Grace Kelly.

"Catherine," I squealed. I looked at Eric and nudged him with my shoulder, "Be right back," I said. He inclined his head slightly. I ran up to Catherine and caught her up in a hug.

."I didn't expect to see you here," I said.

"I know," she looked down shyly as she hugged me back. "I almost didn't come, but Bruno sent someone to drive me so I decided at the last minute." She looked so lovely, dark blonde hair pulled back in a sophisticated bun, her face carefully made up and her large eyes luminous. All trace of the leprosy had disappeared, and she appeared to be in her early forties, although I knew she was a good bit older. "If you still want me to sing …"

"Oh, yes!" I nearly shouted, then clamped my hand over my mouth when I realized I'd been a little too loud. "We have only have a singer for the processional, and no prelude. "

"I have been practicing something," she twisted her fingers together. "The musicians will know it, it's fairly common, but I think I can pull it off."

"I'll check with Octavia, but I know she'll just love the idea," I assured her. "There's room for another song, but we didn't have anyone. This is fate." I hugged her again and signaled to Amelia. She bounded up and after introductions assured me she would clear Catherine's performance with Octavia. She and Catherine then went off to brief the musicians, and I continued to greet the guests.

A few minutes later a long white limo pulled up. The driver got out and opened the passenger door. Niall jumped out, immaculate in a dark blue suit and black shirt complete with ascot, and reached in to assist Minnie as she exited. Hells bells, did she look good. I mean _good_, even better than just a few days before. Her hair gleamed, her face glowed, and her tasteful yet flattering red knee-length gown and matching heels set off her dancer's legs just so.

"Hitting the Andromeda juice a little hard, aren't we?" I whispered as she pecked me on the cheek. She smirked in return. "You need to lay off it, Minnie. We don't know the long-term effects."

"Not a chance," Minnie said under her breath, smiling and waving to Victor and another group of vamps. "Just this week every filling in my teeth popped out. All the molars I've had cavities in over the last seventy years have repaired themselves."

My jaw dropped. "You're shitting me."

"Tut tut, Sookie, such language, Adele would be appalled. And if you don't believe me," she opened her mouth and I examined it in earnest. I saw all white, flawless teeth, not a single flaw or repair evident.

"Minnie, I need to tell you something," I said in a low voice. "I don't know exactly what the details are, but it looks like Andrea has wormed her way into Hunter's life."

Her eyes flew wide and she gripped my arm. "Porter's daughter Andrea?" she breathed. "How do you know, what has she done …"

"She's going to be here tonight to explain," I interjected and Minnie closed her eyes for a second. Niall called to her from a few feet away. "I don't really know anything, but we will speak more later," I assured her. She gave me a tight smile that did not reach her eyes as she joined her escort.

Just then a bigger limo, this one black, pulled up and I rolled my eyes. Felipe deCastro exited, wearing his signature cape and flanked like a pimp on either side by a pair of lovely human girls.

"Meez Stackhouse," he said as he reached for my hands. Reluctantly I gripped his. "It is so very generous of you to host such an event at your home." He made a grand, sweeping gesture with his arm.

Amelia reappeared and pushed an anti-fairy-scent cuff unceremoniously at the king. "It's required," she said snottily. Felipe frowned at the cuff and then at Amelia. She shoved her nose in the air and looked down it at him.

"Ah, yes, you must be the little witch from the takeover." Felipe's eyes lit up, then narrowed with recognition. Amelia snorted.

"King de Castro," Eric's voice boomed from behind me. I felt his arm slip around my waist. "We are happy you could attend."

'We'? I stole a sideways glance at Eric. "Yes, your majesty, and I hope you are satisfied with the amenities provided," I said smoothly. "E (E)E graciously provided tents and furnishings especially for my vampire guests, "I pointed to the fairy-free zone.

"The bar will have a wide array of refreshments available after the ceremony as well." The king lifted his eyebrows and smiled at me. I shivered at the look in his eyes. Hell, knowing him, he probably thought I'd trucked in a load of virgin sacrifices to hand out like party favors after the wedding.

"I see a few contacts I must converse with. I will speak with you both later," he said, sweeping away, the giggling human girls behind him.

"You are angry with me?" I managed to whisper to Eric.

"I am perturbed," he said after a pause, his arm tightening around me.

"Something to do with someone who visited me today?" I guessed.

"That, and something to do with your reaction to such visits," he growled.

I leaned back so I could see his face better. It was closed down, unreadable. "What does that mean?"

"We have no time to discuss this now," he clipped. "The evening will be complicated enough. We will talk later tonight, when we are alone."

"I don't want to wait. What are you talking about?" I tugged at his jacket. He sighed and pulled me to the side, a few feet away from the crowd.

"You know I sent guards …"

"Spies," I interjected.

"Guards," he growled. "And my guards informed me upon my rising this evening that not thirty minutes after we ended our oh-so-enjoyable conversation last night, or should I say early this morning, you went flying through the woods with Bill as he carried you _bridal style_," here he glowered deeply, "to show you some rotten wood and tattered string; at the sight of which, you wept."

"What the hell?" I hissed. "That's not all that happened. We went to see Wizno's wedding gift to Octavia. He showed me the stakes for a house," here I foundered a bit for a good explanation, "he just showed me something he never got to do, and it made me sad for a minute. I was in my house shoes, and he carried me because they were getting ruined. It was completely innocent."

"I should think you would know by now that nothing Bill does with regards to you could be construed as innocent, Sookie. He's a vampire; he knew full well you were being watched."

"What else did your little goons tell you?"

"Only that you lunched under the trees with Beau Sinclair," he said. "You also accepted a gift and a note from the mongrel tiger, and when I arrived tonight I found you ensconced in the arms of your former shifter boss, who has always been in love with you. The last two points, however, are negligible."

My mouth dropped open. "And this is why you're angry with me? Because I had some guests on a party day?"

"Oh, rest assured my Sookie, they each and every one wish to be much more than a _guest_ to you. But I cannot hold you responsible for the misguided actions of your admirers. " He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared moodily at the crowd. "What did Beau say?"

"He said the Weres were not likely to renew my contract as the economy is so bad, and he offered me a job at twice the salary," I hedged. Eric raised his eyebrows.

"And …." He knew there was something more, I couldn't avoid it. I sighed.

"And he asked me if you and I were serious, because he'd like to see me on a personal basis as well." I took a breath and waited for the storm.

"Ah," he said after a moment. "I would have expected a bit more finesse."

"He was frustrated, I think, because I hadn't answered his calls."

Eric fixed me with that intent stare. "And what did you tell him?"

"Well, I told him I was involved, Eric, what do you think I told him?"

He gave a tight nod. "And about the job?"

"I told him I'd think about it."

"And what do you think?"

I shuffled my feet. "I don't know what to think, Eric. I'm not too keen on working for someone who's interested in me that way; it could get very uncomfortable. But it's a wonderful offer, and I have to work. If my contract is not renewed …"

"You're putting the cart before the horse. You and I will discuss this in detail later." His eyes flashed as he shoved his fists in his pockets. "My sources tell me you invited Mr. Sinclair to come tonight. Rest assured he and I will have words before the evening is out."

"I don't like being watched," I snapped. "And it's my life." I narrowed my eyes as a thought occurred to me. "Did you have anything to do with a green parrot that landed on my car as I left New Orleans?"

You know that look you give someone when you thought they were smart, and then they say or do something dumb and you have to re-think that opinion? That's the look Eric gave me right then.

"I took the helicopter tonight," he said, pointedly ignoring my question, "so I could arrive faster. I parked it behind Bill's again, so I have been here a while. I felt your emotions as you were getting dressed."

"Yes?"

"You are second-guessing us again, doubting me," he said, his voice steely and his eyes fixed. "I grow weary of it."

My heartbeat skipped. I cast around internally and searched for the right words. "Eric, you know how I feel about you, but I just don't know …"

"Sookie!" Amelia walked up and grabbed me by the arm. "We have to go now! The ceremony's in fifteen minutes." I gave Eric a regretful glance and left with Amelia as she hustled me to the lineup. The musicians were taking their seats as well as the guests. Octavia had managed to put together a pretty stellar ragtag band of players both for the ceremony and the reception after, former Bourbon Street artists and what not, and I was looking forward to those parts of the evening.

White folding chairs were set up on either side of the aisle. We waited as the seats filled. I spied Alcide—really needed to talk to that guy—and Madelyn and Andrea, together. My back stiffened as I looked away and scanned the audience. There were a few people I didn't recognize, more than a few brownies, and nearly every supe I knew.

My eyes were then drawn to Catherine as she walked to the side of the harpist and the string section. I felt a little nervous for her. This was a big step, after all. The guests all sat and settled in. I could see her take a deep breath and whisper to the horn player. At the opening chords of _Ave Maria_, my eyes welled up. She sang in French, clear and precise, stunningly beautiful,. I knew it must be hard for her, but she prevailed, her voice never wobbling. I tried to maintain my composure, but it was hard, knowing where Catherine had come from, knowing what it took for her to come here tonight. A hushed reverence settled over the crowd, like everyone was holding their breath.

At last we walked down the makeshift aisle, flanked by flowers. I took my place to Octavia's side, followed by Amelia. As the song finished I looked up and saw Bill staring at me. He winked and laid his hand over his heart, just like he had at the Portia and Halleigh Bellefleur wedding. I smirked. I was tempted to stick out my tongue but thought better of it. Then I remembered that stupid thing he said after that ceremony, when he cornered me upstairs while I was trying to change clothes –_I would give anything to lie with you again _– and I frowned.

Something to the left caught my eye—Eric, oh shit, he must have seen me make that face. He turned to Bill and gave him a look that would melt glass. Hurriedly Bill looked away and I stared at my shoes like a chastised school girl. I recalled another wedding I'd attended, the one where Indiana and Mississippi got married, and Eric officiated, with the knife.

Oh, yeah, the knife.

Hesitantly I looked up at Eric and caught his gaze as Raquel stepped forward next and began a flawless rendition of Etta James' _At Last._

Oh my. I knew I was supposed to be watching Octavia as she walked down the aisle but my eyes were glued to his intense stare boring into mine. _At last, my love has come along, my lonely days are gone_ … my mouth dropped open a bit as I tilted my head and regarded him as he stared at me with an unreadable expression.

I wanted to hold that gaze and see where it would take me, but reluctantly I tore my eyes away.

Octavia floated down the aisle on the arm of her son Tristan, a Cheshire cat grin lighting up her face, the gorgeous bronze and burgundy chiffon layers of her gown blowing behind her. Wizno stood at the altar, in the cutest little black tux, wearing a dark red silk cravat and a pair of embroidered suspenders handed down several hundreds of years to grooms in his family.

Octavia's pastor conducted the short and sweet nondenominational ceremony. As they embraced and turned to the audience the recessional boomed across the lawn—Guns N Roses _Another One Bites The Dust_—instruments only. Octavia shot a dirty look at the music section, only to be met by the grins of Wizno's three brothers as they each played a fiddle. Their joke over, the brothers left the band to play The Pogues _Love You Til the End_ as the happy couple made their way back down the aisle.

The party slowly moved to the reception area. The bars opened and the service staff uncovered the tables and oh, my lord, the food! On the cold table we had cucumber and pomegranate salad, pickled okra sandwiches, apple, lime and jalapeno oyster shooters, coconut milk oyster shooters, a strawberry hot cheese ring, as well as the ceviche(which was prominently labeled and pushed to the side, I noticed). It looked like regular ceviche, innocuous enough.

On the hot tables, though, goodness, there was Trout Pontratrain, alligator sausage balls, walnut-encrusted goat cheese in a bed of fresh marinara, warm crawfish and artichoke salad, crabmeat stuffed Creole tomatoes, and I'm just hitting the highlights here.

For the sweets, we had Meyer lemon curd-filled crepes, topped with Devonshire clotted cream, and blood orange crème brulee (madefrom blood oranges, not a vampire dish), miniature banana crème pies and candied figs. The caterers devoted an entire table to the wedding cake, an over-the-top concoction, five layers of decadent butter cream confection decorated lavishly with meticulously elegant fondant, edible flowers, and tiny frozen sugar-frosted champagne grapes. Octavia commissioned a folk artist to carve the bride and groom at the top of the cake, painted to match her gown and Wizno's wedding attire. It was breathtakingly spectacular.

I wandered through the crowd, making the rounds. Thank goodness for the weather, the high had been 82 in the noonday sun, and it had cooled off considerably as the service was so late, about 65 degrees. We were very lucky that the humidity was not too bad for this time of year. Cooling and misting fans, scattered strategically throughout the party area, also helped to keep the temperatures comfortable.

Everything appeared to be going well as the reception commenced, folks oohing and ahhing as they loaded their plates. Wiznoand Octavia sat a little to the side, catching their breaths, I dare say. I spied Madelyn and Fintan engaged deeply in conversation, but Andrea was nowhere to be found.

I drifted over to the vampire tents to check on things there. I found Eric speaking to Felipe, poker-faced as usual. Sam was helping at the liquor bars, and Thalia busied herself handing out synthetics but did not understand the intricacies of the blood'oeuvres yet, so I explained them to her. She seemed to be quite capable and interested, but insisted on scooping up a cupful of the Italian ice, which she sucked on while we conversed. A tad off-putting, that. I looked over to Eric and saw him standing alone for a minute so I approached him.

"Come with me," I grabbed him by the hand and he gave me a bemused smile. I dragged him over to the bar and began showing him the different dishes I'd come up with. He tried everything, and seemed particularly fascinated with the aspic, the least elegant of the offerings, in my opinion.

"Why did you do all this?" he asked, gesturing toward the table.

"Food makes people happy," I shrugged. "It's a universal truth." I trailed my fingers down his shirt sleeve. "I knew it would make you look good, and I thought it might impress the vampires if I went to some trouble. Plus, I figured you all got sick of the same old thing. I know what you would _prefer_," I pursed my lips and leaned forward, "but if you have to partake of other sustenance in social situations, it might as well be as pleasant as possible." He nodded, a corner of his mouth curling up.

"It must have been very expensive," he observed. "As they are my business and political associates, I would like to reimburse you."

I held up my hand. "Let's not talk about that tonight, please. I just want the guests to enjoy themselves." He let it go momentarily, but I knew the discussion was far from over. He turned his back to the other vampires and leaning down, pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. If I didn't know better, I would say he was uncharacteristically touched. "Thank you," he murmured against my skin.

Embarrassed, I quickly nodded and ducked my head.

Pretty soon the vampires couldn't get enough of the treats. Everyone was doing Bloody Bloody Mary shots, downing Plasmapolitans, and my aspic got gone real quick. Felipe appeared quite taken with his tent and the amenities therein, and proceeded to hold court there with much of the vampire attendants, which was fine with me.

We heard the band start up with a dedication to Wizno and Octavia's first dance. They looked so happy, floating across the floor. I felt joyful that their day had gone so well. I looked over at Eric. He still looked a little broody, despite his apparent pleasure at my vampire surprises. I searched for something to say, a way to break the ice. "How are the fish?" I finally asked.

He pressed his lips together and appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Funny you should ask. I suspect Berta is running around with the tang all night and carrying on with the clownfish in the anemone during the day."

Crap. "Huh," I replied. "I didn't see that coming. What brought you to that conclusion? You're asleep during the day."

"There have been signs," he said. "And I have an instinct about such things. Plus," He gave me a dark look here, "I have my sources in the tank."

I looked at him quickly, confused, and saw his eyes were alight with merriment. I burst into laughter. He joined in, and my heart lightened as we felt right again.

When the band's lead singer began a rendition of Elvis Costello's _She_, Eric turned to me. "This one's for us," he said with a half-smile. It was a slow one, and even though we might have attempted it, we took to the floor and did no fancy jumps or twirls. We moved together as we always have, just me in the arms of my vampire, and the rest of the world melted away. Gradually, however, the lyrics began to register with me.

_She may be the face I can't forget  
The trace of pleasure or regret_

That's sweet, I thought as I hugged Eric closer.

_She  
May be the beauty or the beast  
May be the famine or the feast  
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell  
_

Okay, what's up with that? She may be the beauty or the beast? May turn each day into a heaven or a hell? I listened closely to the next words.

_She maybe the reason I survive  
The why and wherefore kind of life  
The one I care for through the rough and ready years_

I sighed. Mr. Mixed Signals kissed my hair. Was he messing with me? I looked up at his face searchingly, but it gave away nothing.

"What?" he asked, toying with the ribbons tying my dress.

"You screw with my head," I said.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Ditto," he replied. I snorted, delicately, I might add.

_I'll take her laughter and her tears  
And make them all my souvenirs  
For where she goes I've got to be  
The meaning of my life is  
She_

_Surely,_ _he didn't mean all that_, I thought. Ah, to heck with the over-analyzing of song lyrics. I decided to live in the moment, and snuggled into Eric's chest, the most content I'd been all day. We moved together as one as he hummed along to me, and I felt such peace. I knew he did too. If only our lives could be this simple, I thought wistfully.

"The dress becomes you," he spoke again, his eyes darkening as he traced along my décolletage with a single, cool finger. I caught my breath. "You are a golden vision. And it pleases me to no end to see you wearing these," he lifted the pearls slightly with his finger, and then set them gently back down.

"Does it please you to wear them?" he asked huskily, giving me the look that sank a thousand women before me.

"It does," I whispered. What can I say, I am not immune.

I didn't want to leave when the song ended, but the brownie brigade began arranging to do a rumba line to _Love Train_, so we got the hell off the floor pretty quick.

The band played an engaging and eclectic selection of music designed to get people moving, as Octavia had requested. Just like Fintan predicted, It didn't take the supes long to realize what kind of a floor they were dancing on. Now like I said, I'm a good dancer, but that fairy floor reminded me of the high school counselor's question 'What would you do with your life if you knew you couldn't fail?' Well, how would you dance if you knew you couldn't fall or look stupid? 'Cause that's pretty much exactly what everybody did.

You really don't want to know what the Weres and shapeshifters did when _Dancing in the Moonlight_ played.

Really, you don't.

For the most part though, the people-watching was highly entertaining, and Eric and I sat at a table and laughed our asses off. Eric and I joined in the dancing from time to time, and it reminded me of New Orleans, the way we played. So I just let go, making a mental note to worry about Alcide and Andrea and all the other stressors later, and just enjoy the party. Because it was a hell of a party, I have to tell you. Folks were really having a good time, dancing and eating and drinking and laughing. The infectiousness of it all felt liberating and joyous, and I didn't want to resist.

Jason showed up late, of course, looking exactly like you might expect him to look after the night he had before, but it didn't stop the women, both human and otherwise, from falling all over him. He danced with two or three at a time and acted the fool, along with everyone else. He and I even got out on the floor to _Locomotion _the way we used to do together when Gran brought out her old records, when we were very, very small, and to kid around with him like that again warmed my heart in a way that I am unable to express.

"You love your brother," Eric observed as I breathlessly returned to the table.

"Yes." I sat down, fanning my face.

"Why?"

I dabbed a napkin in a glass of ice water and wiped my brow. "When it all comes down to it, I guess I don't have much of a choice." I watched Jason as he pulled Minnie out on the floor, despite her protests, and I smiled. "I've told you before. There was a time when I was growing up that he came home nearly every day with a black eye or a new bruise he got defending me. I think of that when I get aggravated with him. I'm not the only one who's been scarred by my telepathy."

"He hasn't treated you so well as an adult." Eric squared his shoulders and glared in Jason's direction.

"No, he hasn't," I admitted. "But I don't think he's fully grown yet, even though it's way past time. And he needs me to love him, whether he realizes it now or not. One day he'll understand."

Eric gave me an appraising look. He shook his head.

"What?"

He shook his head again and reached for my hand. I settled in against him and we went back to watching the floor.

Clovache danced by with Wizno's brother. As they moved past our table I looked at her feet. Sandals. I breathed an internal sigh of relief. Even though they were size-minimizing, she still looked like a six-foot tall Minnie Mouse with a couple of bricks hanging off the ends of her legs, I noted with satisfaction.

At one point I saw Catherine and Bill glide by, hum, that's an idea, Fintan and Madelyn, Niall and Minnie, all making great dramatic use of the floor. I even saw Amelia dancing with Beau Sinclair, who'd a thunk?

After about an hour Wizno approached me and whispered hat he wanted to show Octavia her wedding present, and they quietly disappeared. I smiled as I watched them walk off toward Bill's property into the night.

Eric and I were slow-dancing again when Pam and Lance brushed by us on the floor. "Oh Sookie," Pam called out as Lance moved her closer, "I so enjoyed your little delicacies, but I have problem with the nomenclature.'" The song ended and the band started playing a peppy Cajun waltz. Eric started dancing faster, twirling me around.

"The cadaviar," she said, as Lance picked up their pace in time. "It is from live donors, of course, as vampires cannot digest blood taken from a dead source?"

"Yes," I said breathlessly. Eric really started to swing me around then. He liked that floor, a whole lot, I could tell by his face. Uh-oh.

"So where's the 'cadaver' come from?" she asked, her eyebrows raised and her immaculate appearance just a tad ruffled as Lance, not to be outdone, kept pace with Eric.

I thought for just a second, and then grinned. "I guess you're the cadaver, Sugarbutt," I lilted as Eric swung me by again, getting a little crazy now.

Pam looked affronted, and then grinned in an evil manner.

Lance and Eric started tossing us in the air; which would not have been a challenge for Pam to land gracefully I am sure, without the floor. However, I was very grateful for it as they continued to pitch us higher and higher. We were all laughing and they were getting bolder and bolder, and even though I landed gracefully every time, the pull of the floor's magic began to make me feel kind of like a puppet and the strain of it started to wear on me. During the last toss Eric must have seen the panic in my face, as he shot up and caught me halfway in the air and brought me down slowly, twirling gently as I caught my breath. We landed on the floor and remained in the embrace, and I wished fervently I could stay that way for at least a little while.

The song ended and reluctantly I looked up. Eric's expression gave me pause; the emotions on it were so conflicted. I reached up gingerly to touch his cheek and he lowered his eyes to where I couldn't see them anymore.

"This is too precious," Pam drawled. "I do hate to interrupt again, but we need to do the Britlingen thing now. They are hounding me."

I groaned. "Way to ruin a tender moment, Pam," I groused. Eric just looked irritated but resigned.

"Let me make one more round," I replied. I circled the party area, studying the food and the crowd. I made a pass at the tables and did a double-take at the cake. Just in the last little while someone had placed a replica of the tree house behind the folk art statues on the top layer. I picked it up carefully; it was exquisite, in the same style as the figurines, and extremely detailed. I marveled at the workmanship of it, and how heavy it felt, weighing it in my palm. Gingerly I set it back atop the cake and surveyed the party again. It may have taken a village, but how perfect it had all turned out. So many people contributed something, and all the effort seemed worthwhile.

Eric and Pam watched me impatiently. "Let's go up to the cabin for privacy," Pam suggested. "Batanya and Clovache are already there." I had to agree that it would be a better location.

Lance excused himself from the group. Time to pay the piper, I guess. We made a somber line up the path. I hate this, I thought moodily, why did I ever agree?

As we trudged along I felt fussy, swatting at branches. "The make-out session was your deal, Sookie," Pam reminded.

"I realize that, Pam," I snapped. "Can we call it something else? What are we, fourteen?"

"How about a grab-ass session?" she quipped. I watched Eric, and said fine, fine ass, as he walked ahead on the path. "Hell no," I returned too quickly, and he laughed.

Batanya and Clovachewere waiting outsidethe cabin. Several fairy guards were lounging around outside, no doubt because the wards made them feel safer. Eric already had a pass, and I invited Pam in past the ward. She quirked an eyebrow at the guards, fingering the cuff at her neck suggestively as we walked by.

The five of us stood in the middle of the living area. The Britlingens and I regarded one another a tad awkwardly for a few seconds. Eric and Pam, of course, remained nonchalant. Batanya turned toward Eric and eyed him hungrily, her gaze lingering on his massive arms and chest muscles showing through the dark grey dress shirt, before it fixated unabashedly below his waist. I madea sound deep in my throat and tried to cover it with a cough. It didn't fool anyone, and Pam openly chortled. I moved to the side, my arms crossed over my chest. _Please dear God, let this go quickly_, I prayed.

"I do believe you owe me a little consideration, Mr. Northman," Clovache purred. She slid up to him, setting her lips on his neck. Batanya slivered up to his back, rubbing between his shoulders.

Okay, getting decidedly uncomfortable here. "Sookie, are you going to stay?" Pam asked. Eric's eyes moved to me and I caught a hint of a dare in his smirk. I squirmed a bit. Not happy. Not moving.

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world," I snipped. Eric turned toward Clovache, grinning ever so slightly. He was enjoying this a bit, because he knew I'd agreed to it, not him, and I had no right to get angry. Oooh, what an impossible situation! Was saving the world really worth all this? Were the Andromedas that bad, after all?

I steeled myself for more.

Clovache grabbed Eric by the lapels of his jacket and moved in closer, her mouth open. Ew. Her tongue was a weird color, almost black, like a Chow's—the dog, not the dead bartender.

Eric turned his face away from me, for which I was grateful. I assumed Clovache kissed him, uggh. Batanya continued to rub her body along Eric's back, Clovache along his front. I saw that tongue flick out again as she laved up his neck and suckled his ear. Thank God I couldn't see his face—surely this had to end soon. Batanyastarted making a weird, keening noise; I saw her hips begin to rock into Eric's backside just a little bit. My hands clenched into fists at my sides.

Just when I thought I was going to have to throw a complete hissy fit, Clovache lifted her foot and ran it up Eric's pants leg.

Eric looked down. What color he had drained from his face; he shuddered visibly. Batanya lifted her sandal-clad foot and ran it up the other leg. Eric's hand shook a little as Batanya's big toe and the one next to it pinched his calf. He turned a little green, and looked like he was getting ready to vomit. It's a really interesting look on a vampire, I have to tell you. In spite of myself, I started to smile.

All ye who have not sinned can just kiss my ass.

I watched Eric's Adam's apple tremble a little and I felt almost sorry for him. But I was too relieved, really. I looked at Pam, who was grinning also. Gonna have to get her a gift certificate to a spa, or something, I thought fleetingly.

Batanya continued to caress Eric's leg with her foot, pulling the material above his ankle. I looked down and all the blood drained out of my face then.

That son of a bitch had on a pair of black demi-boots, zippers on the side.

' … _if you ever need to get rid of me, all you have to do is call me your old lady and wear a pair of demi-boots, the kind they wore in the seventies, you know, with the zippers on the side_ ... I'd told him just a couple of months ago, only half-joking. The ones he wore were very tasteful, and looking at him on first glance you couldn't tell that they were anything but a pair of very expensive dress shoes; I'm sure he had them custom-made. Still, I knew what they were, and so did Eric. There was no way he hadn't worn them on purpose.

I stared transfixed, trying to absorb this information. I'd lost track of what was going on in the room when I heard Pam clear her throat. I looked up just as Clovache reached for the waistband of Eric's pants.

"I think that's enough," Pam said. I couldn't find a voice. Batanya reached down to help Clovache.

"That's enough," I managed, my words sharp and loud. They reluctantly pulled away. I looked away from the shoes before Eric could catch me. I wanted to check to see if he had an erection, but I kept my eyes averted, even though I really wanted to check.

Clovache and Batanyawalked outside with Pam, giggling. Eric crossed the distance between us and took my elbow. I pulled away. He furrowed his brow. "You're not angry with me, are you my dove?" he asked. "It was not my idea, and I assure you I didn't enjoy it."

If his choice in footwear was a joke, then it was a bad one, and if it wasn't … my mind went back to my doubts earlier in the evening, and Eric's face when he told me he had wearied of them. I wanted to jump on him about the shoes but I decided that it would let him off the hook too easy if I started yelling. The last thing I wanted to do was make breaking up with me easy on him, oh no sirree, he was going to have to suffer through it.

"It was quite a spectacle," I said as calmly as I could. "But I know I can't be mad at you. I just want to forget about it."

Eric lifted his eyebrows and did not respond. I studiously avoided his gaze. "I want to apologize for putting you in this position," I continued after a moment, venturing a peak at him from under my lashes. He looked calm, unperturbed.

"I had no right to do it. I needed the information they gave me, and I did try to negotiate something else, but I should have spoken with you first. You are not an object to be bargained with, and it wasn't fair."

"All's fair," he said quietly. His lips twisted in a wry manner. "I assure you I have been bargained with in far worse manners, although it has been a while."

I sure didn't like the sound of that. "Doesn't make it right," I nearly snapped, then squared my shoulders and looked him in the eye. "I'll not do it again."

Eric regarded me in silence for a moment. He took my face by my chin and tilted it up. "Something else is worrying my lover," he murmured. "Tell me." I set my jaw.

Eric started to say something just as Amelia burst through the door, flanked on either side by a fairy guard.

"There's a skirmish down at the reception and you all have to get down there," she said breathlessly. She looked like she'd been running, and there were leaves in her hair. "Now."

************

_**There's a ton of links on my profile f**__**or music and dresses and such. I have to give Sonjita credit for the cadaver/cadaviar discussion, she did inspire it. I'm thinking there's two chapters left to the saga, my friends, maybe an epilogue and some outtakes if there's enough interest. Don't slow down, though, there's danger ahead and fireworks at the finale. As always, I'd love to know you're still out there, especially those of you I haven't heard from in a while *wink* as always, take care, and guys?**_

**_Trust me._**

**_2/14 Okay, to relieve the anxiety some readers are apparently feeling at the end of the chapter above, here's a teaser from the next chapter:_**

**_Chapter 53  
_**

Eric never took his eyes off me. "Tell me," he said again, ignoring Amelia and the guards. I stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. A corner of his mouth lifted. "Turnabout's fair play," he murmured.

My eyes shot up then. "What?"

"A human expression," he smirked.

"Not funny," I shot back. "And not fair."

"All's fair," he repeated, and I wanted to smack him. I looked at Pam behind him, who was unsuccessfully trying not to cackle.

"You just lost a massage, lady," I snapped.

"Oh, dear, Sookie," she returned, her eyes filled with glee. "And were you going to give it? That would be a tragedy indeed."

_**Happy Valentine's my friends :)**_

2/21 Sooooo, I'm not going to post a chapter today. Because it would suck. We went through that already. I guess I broke some kind of teaser rule by posting that blurb above on the teaser forum. Maybe I won't get tarred and feathered, I think overall I have been very consistent.

But if you really want to know what's going on with the next one, here's the scoop:

1. It is 2000 words long so far. It will probably be about 4000-5000 words when completed. So it's halfway complete.

2. The second half is outlined.

3. I have worked through most of the action scene. Hallelujah.

4. I have a sinus infection, I feel like shit, but I anticipate posting something this week.

5. And finally, I completely understand now why so many authors don't finish long stories. It is extremely difficult to do. There are many details, and the end is just hard to tie everything up in a semi-cool way.

Now, this isn't the last chapter, but it's the next to last. And I think I probably will write an epilogue, as folks are most likely going to have a hissy fit when they see my somewhat unconventional ending. It's all good folks, take a deep breath :)


	53. Chapter 53

**A/N Welcome back, dear readers. Sorry it took so long, yada, yada, yada. You guys know how the action scenes slow me down. A big thank you to Wanda W., beta extraordinaire. I owe her like a vacation or something. And not a crappy three-day American one either, one of those nice six-week European holidays. Ah, well, perhaps a virtual pitcher of avocado margaritas? That I can handle. Also a heart-felt thank you to muse Sonjita and pinch-reader HopeStreet, who both helped me with continuity and technical issues. Back to the wedding …**

**Chapter 53**

… _If his choice in footwear was a joke, then it was a bad one, and if it wasn't … my mind went back to my doubts earlier in the evening, and Eric's face when he told me he had wearied of them. I wanted to jump on him about the shoes but I decided that it would let him off the hook too easy if I started yelling. The last thing I wanted to do was make breaking up with me easy on him, oh no sirree, he was going to have to suffer through it._

_"It was quite a spectacle," I said as calmly as I could. "But I know I can't be mad at you. I just want to forget about it."_

_Eric lifted his eyebrows and did not respond. I studiously avoided his gaze. "I want to apologize for putting you in this position," I continued after a moment, venturing a peak at him from under my lashes. He looked calm, unperturbed._

_"I had no right to do it. I needed the information they gave me, and I did try to negotiate something else, but I should have spoken with you first. You are not an object to be bargained with, and it wasn't fair."_

_"All's fair," he said quietly. His lips twisted in a wry manner. "I assure you I have been bargained with in far worse manners, although it has been a while."_

_I sure didn't like the sound of that. "Doesn't make it right," I nearly snapped, then squared my shoulders and looked him in the eye. "I'll not do it again."_

_Eric regarded me in silence for a moment. He took my face by my chin and tilted it up. "Something else is worrying my lover," he murmured. "Tell me." I set my jaw._

_Eric started to say something just as Amelia burst through the door, flanked on either side by a fairy guard._

_"There's a skirmish down at the reception and you all have to get down there," she said breathlessly. She looked like she'd been running, and there were leaves in her hair. "Now."_

Eric never took his eyes off me. "Tell me," he said again, ignoring Amelia and the guards. I stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. A corner of his mouth lifted.

"Turnabout's fair play," he said then, still holding my face.

My eyes shot up then. "What?"

"A human expression," he smirked.

"Not funny," I shot back as I jerked my chin out of his grasp. "And not fair."

"All's fair," he repeated, and I wanted to smack him. I looked at Pam behind him, who was unsuccessfully trying not to cackle.

"You just lost a massage, lady," I snapped.

"Oh, dear, Sookie," she returned, her eyes filled with glee. "And were you going to give it? That would be a tragedy indeed."

I seethed, and my face flushed as my temperature rose. "There's another human expression. Paybacks are hell."

"Where's your sense of humor, dear one?" Eric openly grinned. "Why can't we just get along?"

"Shut up," I shoved his shoulder and turned away.

"Excuse me," Amelia tapped her foot. "Why is no one paying any attention to me? Something's bad wrong down at the reception!"

Eric went into commander mode. "I'll lead," he said, taking off across the porch toward the path. "Fairies, you bring up the rear behind the women." I trailed behind him.

"Sookie, you follow Pam," he directed over his shoulder. Sullenly, I sank behind. Pam turned around and smirked. I grabbed her arm.

"You set me up," I ducked a branch but never let go. "Shame on you."

"I have no shame, Sookie," she returned, well, shamelessly. "You should know that by now."

Eric stopped suddenly to take a phone call. We halted on the path behind him.

"I like you, Sookie," Pam said, reaching over to straighten the strap on my dress. "But did you really think I would side with you against my Master? You do know where my loyalties lie." She smiled widely and patted my shoulder. "After all the grief you've caused him just today, not to mention all the rest of the time, did you not deserve to have your little joke backfire a bit?"

"That's fine, Pam," I snapped. "I'm not mad, but you might want to watch your back." She snorted and turned away. "And Pam?"

She turned back slightly. "You also might want to check a mirror," I swept past her on the path with my head held high. "You have cadaviar in your teeth."

Pam's eyes widened and then narrowed. Quickly she pulled a compact from her purse and proceeded to check her teeth. I snorted loudly.

"I went to Jason's to get a ceviche refill for the cold table," Amelia said, pointedly ignoring our exchange. "As I headed back, I could tell something was going on. People were yelling, some kind of fracas. I got a bad vibe about it, so I took a left up the path to the cabin before anyone could stop me."

Oh, that didn't sound good. I swallowed. I started to ask another question when Eric ended his call and gave us both a warning glance.

"There's a new ward around the dance floor and food," he said in a low voice. "Vampires can't cross it. We may need the Britlingens and the fairies to form the front line."

"What's going on?" I whispered. He shook his head, and looked at the Britlingens and fairy guard again, indicating for me to stay close to them.

We arrived at the bottom of the hill. Ahead, the vampires left their tents and slowly started circling the dance floor area. We followed stealthily behind. Eric caught up with Felipe, who hung back with his guard; words were exchanged and Eric, flanked by Victor, appeared to take command. Pam drifted back out of sight.

We crept carefully along. I noticed the band wasn't playing anymore, and an eerie silence where things had been so raucously noisy before. As we approached the tent, I saw the partygoers, brownies and Weres and such, gathered quietly around the dance floor stage.

In the middle of the stage sat John, holding Minnie in his lap. Catherine appeared to be unconscious and lay on the floor at his feet. John held his teeth to Minnie's throat and growled at the audience. Mary stood behind him, flanked by two more Andromedas.

Eric turned immediately to the Britlingens. "I thought you took them back," he snarled.

"We did," Clovache whispered, "but," here she cast a sideways glance at Batanya, "When we crossed back over the dimension for the party, it did feel like something jumped on the tail of our jetstream. A couple could have caught a ride that way."

Eric made a sound deep in his throat. I feared for the Britlingens, but I was angry as well. "How is that possible?" I hissed.

Batanya shrugged. "You remember the Hale-Bopp comet, and the cult that wanted to catch a ride on it?" she asked. I nodded. I'd been about sixteen at the time.

"Like that," she said, matter-of-factly. Holy shit. My mind boggled for a moment at all the comet-jumping possibilities, before Eric shushed me again.

Almost involuntarily I began drifting closer to the floor where Octavia stood, flanked by the Britlingens and Amelia. John jerked his head in my direction and smiled.

"Ah, Miss Stackhouse, this is a relation of yours, eh?" I'd forgotten how creepy his teeth looked, all long and pointy. He bared them for effect, and a collective gasp rose from the guests. " I would drain her, but she is so loaded with my own blood," here he tightened his grip on Minnie and she made a pained sound, " it would hardly be any fun." He kicked at Catherine, who let out a low moan; I was glad that she was alive. "Same as that one. You associate with these blood-thieving old human whores, Sookie, and I thought you were such a nice girl."

Felipe stepped forward and addressed John from the edge of the ward. "That is my telepath," he intoned. "Release her immediately."

John laughed.

Niall stood up from his table. "You were interested in my great-granddaughter at one time. That one has a lot of miles on her, but is still of value. Perhaps we can work out a compromise."

Minnie's eyes flashed pure rage. If looks could kill, Niall would be one very well-dressed, very dead old fairy prince. John turned toward Mary and the other two and engaged them in conversation. The partygoers shuffled uncomfortably. I moved in toward Fintan and Niall to try to get one of them to lift the ward, but they were being directly guarded by the Andromedas and I couldn't communicate with them.

I realized that I had walked past the ward and the vampires could not help me. I tried to step back, but the two Andromedas moved swiftly and stopped me. Batanya and Clovache moved forward, but were stopped as well.

I could feel anger and frustration. I looked up. Eric glared at me from the other side of the ward. Well, hell, he's already pissed, might as well go for broke.

'_Work with me,'_ I mouthed. He raised an eyebrow. '_Please.'_ He nodded almost imperceptibly. "Amelia, can you lift the ward at all?" I whispered. She shook her head. "It's anti-vampire like the ones at the cabin, probably a fairy created it," she whispered in my ear.

Eric and the vampires continued to circle the ward. Desperately, I tried to assess the situation.

"Why are you here?" I addressed John loudly.

"I had nowhere else to go, my little telepath," John continued to bare his teeth in that super scary way. "Your vampire there," he indicated Eric with his head, "sent me back to my world in disgrace. I am a joke—taken down by a human woman and a handful of vampires, which are a lower form of our kind—and I could not remain under that kind of ridicule.

"But when I found out about this little," here he looked at Mary, "what was the colloquial term, my dear?"

"Shindig," Mary provided, baring her own fanged mouth of death.

"Shindig," John repeated with satisfaction. "When I heard that so many kinds and cultures were uniting socially here tonight, I realized it would be the perfect opportunity to make the news, shall we say. I can drain the ones who took me down, and wipe out the rest of you," here he looked cheerfully at the audience, "just for effect."

At that, Wizno let out a roar and rushed the stage, where he was easily halted by one of the male Andromedas, who picked him up like a kitten and held him by the scruff of his neck. Wizno courageously punched, cursed and kicked, but he of course was no match.

Octavia stood on a chair and pointed at the Andromeda. "Put my husband down," she commanded. "Now."

"Bert, stay as you are," John directed. Bert? I immediately dubbed the other Andromeda Ernie.

John regarded Octavia with a casual interest. "Ah, you must be the powerful witch who lives with Ms. Stackhouse," he said with delight. "I've heard of you." It occurred to me that John was acting decidedly out of character, almost as if he'd had a mental break with reality.

Octavia ignored him. "I've been working on a switching spell for the last few minutes," she said, remarkably calm, I might add, considering that a bunch of revenge-seeking extraterrestrials were doing their damnedest to ruin her wedding. "Put him down or I will replace your private parts with the freshest form of road kill currently gracing the asphalt surface of Highway 79." Bert smirked at her, unfazed.

Wizno made a choking sound as the Andromeda tightened his grip on his neck. Octavia moved her lips nearly soundlessly, and appeared to retreat into her head. I held my breath, praying to God whatever she did might work.

Suddenly a strange look crossed Bert's face. He looked down at his crotch and grasped it gingerly with his free hand. He stared around in disbelief, then shook out his pants leg. The room froze. Two pings rang out as something hit the floor.

One, then two small flesh-covered walnut-shaped objects came into view on the fairy floor and circled each other in a large, perfectly executed '8' pattern, almost as if magnetized, and then rolled over to a decorative potted plant, where they halted their movements in complete synchronization. Time seemed to stand still and folks stood slack-jawed, mesmerized by the display.

Well, you just don't see something like that every day.

All the males on the floor gasped. Bert dropped Wizno and promptly pitched forward, unconscious. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Victor Madden surreptitiously checking himself on the other side of the ward. He wasn't the only one.

John looked impressed, in spite of himself.

"That's not what was supposed to happen," Octavia whispered to me. "I was bluffing a bit. But it's still a hell of a parlor trick." She winked.

The other Andromeda—Ernie—lurched toward us. Octavia raised a single hand. "Think about it," she warned, pointing at his crotch. He returned to his former position sullenly.

We appeared to be at an impasse. Curiously, John seemed completely unruffled by our stance and Octavia's actions. He turned to Mary and engaged in conversation, never letting go of Minnie. It was almost as if he were killing time. What the hell was going on? I felt the brownies and Weres growing restless beside me, preparing to attack.

"_There's a bomb,"_ the words reverberated in my head. I looked around.

Andrea stared at me intently across the floor. _"Where?"_ I sent back.

"_That I don't know."_

"_You're not supposed to be telepathic."_

"_I'm not very good,"_ she admitted. _"I can project, but I can't read humans at all unless they are projecting directly at me, like you are now. I can read supes pretty well._

"_And there's a bomb; I picked it up from a fairy guard's mind, but I don't know where it is."_

I mentally cursed myself for not paying enough attention, for just enjoying the party. There were so few humans present I'd not worried much about my telepathy, but now paying attention would really, really come in handy.

I opened my mind and looked around. John was conversing with the other Andromedas. The vampires were gathered around the ward, poking and prodding it to no avail. I scanned the crowd and tried to pick up something, failed. Andrea did the same and she shook her head at me.

Where would a bomb be best hidden? I tried to think. So many people were here, all the cars, it would be easy, but for maximum effect the bomb would need to be in a central location, just like we were now.

I glanced at the food tables; it could be in a dish, a floral arrangement, under a stand. My eyes drifted to the gift table, where many items were not wrapped. A pair of snow-white goats bleated in a cage by the table. What the hell? And was that a gold-plated hookah?

My eyes went back to the wedding cake, and the little tree house that appeared on top of it late in the evening. I recalled how heavy, and oddly familiar, it felt in my hand. No one would suspect that. But the cake was made of flour. I projected my thoughts back to Amelia, who nodded slightly.

"_I got a little peek into John's brain. They probably did that to confuse you, so no one would suspect. It's a suicide mission. They're committing hari-kari with the cake. The bomb will kill or maim most of the humans and supes, and most likely wipe out the Andromedas too. John wants to be a martyr, apparently."_

Amelia and Bruno drifted over to the side and were working desperately to lift a corner of the ward and let Eric in and any other vampires in. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Sam, slowly but surely, pushing the wedding cake toward the stage.

Octavia caught sight of him and glared. "Oh hell, no," she said out loud. Wizno tried to shush her. The Andromedas saw Sam, but curiously did nothing to stop him. Sam started forward again.

"Sam," I whispered frantically, "No!"

He looked at me and rolled his eyes. When he saw the expression on my face, however, he halted.

"_Two minutes_," Andréa sent frantically.

I needed a miracle. What I had was a little magic. I looked down and tapped my foot on the fairy floor. I realized that the Andromedas probably were not aware of the floor's powers, most likely attributing the little Testicular Tango to Octavia's spell.

Eric and the vampires gathered right on the other side of the ward, along with the Weres guarding Felipe. I felt him pushing strength through the bond at me. I met his eyes. He gave me a smile and a wink, posed for battle. He knew I had something, I could feel it. I smiled back.

_This is us,_ I realized suddenly. _This is what we do._ I squared my shoulders.

I knew I couldn't just run over to the cake because someone would most assuredly stop me. I needed to move fast, and I needed to catch the Andromedas off guard.

"I don't have much time," I whispered to Batanya and Clovache. They looked at me questioningly.

"I need you to pick me up and throw me across the room as hard as you can. I need to get close to that cake, but not run into it. Understand?" They glanced at one another and nodded.

As unobtrusively as possible I slipped off my heels. I stood up and took a deep breath. "On the count of three," I said, and closed my eyes. "One, two …." I felt the Britlingens hoist me by my hips and hurl me across the floor. Instantly I knew something was wrong with the angle. I opened my eyes and panicked as it looked like I was headed too low, straight for legs of the table the cake was on. Instinctively, I reached for the floor with one hand, intending to both halt my momentum and break my fall.

Given the laws of gravity and physics, I should have plowed face-first into the ground, undoubtedly breaking my nose and possibly a few teeth. Instead, I felt the floor's power as it tossed me backwards into a one-handed somersault, my legs gracefully arching across the distance. I had about two seconds to realize that my underwear was probably showing, and I was really thankful I had chosen pretty, but fairly modest, tiny pale pink lace boy shorts to match my dress.

I looked between my legs to see the cake just a foot or so away, and lilted to the side, landing lightly on my feet.

"_Twenty seconds!"_ Andrea brain-screamed.

In one smooth motion, I stood on my tiptoes and plucked the tree house from the top of the cake, praying the entire time.

With my pitching arm, as hard as I ever threw in any high school softball tournament, I projected that figurine up in the air towards the old barn, approximately five seconds before it exploded, turning my (un)grandfather Mitchell Stackhouse's favorite old cigar-smoking and moonshine-sipping retreat into a burning pile of splintered wood and scattered hay.

Niall stood up and ordered the ward lifted. The vampires and Were guard rushed the floor. Pam and Lance moved side by side, headed for the stage. I grabbed Madelyn's rum and coke and threw it in John's face. Minnie scrambled from John's grasp, picked up a half-eaten lemon curd-filled crepe, and promptly clocked Niall across the mouth with it.

I saw Eric and another vampire wrestling Ernie to the ground. John struggled to his feet just as the Britlingens grabbed him by the arms. He snapped his jaws like a rabid dog at them_. _

Someone started tossing two-liter soda bottles from the bar across the floor at John and Mary, bursting them and spraying everywhere. The brownies pelted the groom's cake at the Andromedas by the handfuls. No one knew which fairies to trust, which only added to the confusion. A few Weres started shifting, I saw a couple of vampires snap off their fairy cuffs, others were getting out of control, and everything just started generally going to hell.

Once again, Octavia climbed up on a chair. "Listen to me people," she shouted. "Listen to me! Before I start casting a mass ball-dropping spell against the lot of you!"

That got the room's attention. Although struggles continued, slowly the ruckus began to quiet a bit.

"This is my wedding day. The most important day of my life. I have worked hard for this day, and so have my friends and family. And while I appreciate what you all are doing here, I will not have it degenerate into a food fight and throwdown," she stated.

"She's right," I said, taking a stand beside her chair in support. "And if we all act rationally, no one has to die here tonight."

Just then Eric raised his sword—fleetingly I recognized it as the one I commandeered from the Andromeda war, the silver tipped one with the wood running down the center—and pitched it across the room sideways, slicing off John's head in the process as Batanya and Clovache barely ducked in time to avoid the rotating blade.

"Except for that guy," I finished somewhat lamely as the head hit the floor.

Where it, of course, bounced like a basketball and landed with a splash in a champagne bucket on a stand placed directly to the right of the stage.

Honestly, I had fun on that floor, and apparently it saved everyone's asses more than once tonight, but I couldn't help but think I'd be glad when Fintan and his guard rolled that creepy thing up and got it the hell off my property.

Before I could catch my breath, a huge body slammed me to the floor, just as another Andromeda weapon, this one a dagger, whizzed by where my heart had been seconds before. I turned my head in the direction it came from, and saw Mary's war face crumble as a group of zealous brownies, headed by Wizno, pulled her down to the ground and proceeded to shove chilled asparagus and bleu cheese finger sandwiches down her throat.

I looked up to see my shiny-eyed Viking grinning above me. "A little rough, wouldn't you say?" I groused. He'd all but knocked the breath out of me. I didn't mind, but he didn't have to know that.

"I thought you liked it rough sometimes," he said, quite cheekily, and then laid a battle kiss, one of those deep, swooning, 'I thought it might all be over' kisses, on me.

"Your barn is toast," he said when the kiss ended. "A small loss, considering,"

I shrugged.

"This happens far too often," He gestured to us on the floor. "And you are in trouble with me, you know," his eyes deepened and his mouth set in a thin line.

I sighed. "I figured."

He helped me up. "Try to stay out of harm's way for ten minutes. I have to find a bad fairy," he picked up his sword and went back to business.

The worst of it appeared to be over. The vampires started rounding up the fae guard to interrogate them in the tents, and Niall and Fintan were arguing loudly with Victor about protocol in such an event. The fire burned itself out quickly, leaving nothing but a pile of smoldering ash.

The brownies set about cleaning up the mess, moving with astounding speed and efficiency. The cake, miraculously unscathed, stood ready for long-awaited photos. It took security about an hour to clear the remaining guests, after which folks freshened up in the house and at Jason's. The band started playing a short time later. I thought the revelry would be ended, but, on the contrary, people seemed more revved up than before and the frivolity increased threefold.

After wandering around and checking on the guests for a while, I sat down at a table, exhausted. I started to shake a bit as the reality of the bomb set in. I found a tiny gash on my arm that was bleeding just a little, and I set about dabbing it with a damp napkin as I watched Eric and Felipe debriefing a few feet away.

Andrea approached and sat down across from me.

I was really not in the mood to dance around the issue. "Are you sure you're not a bad guy?" I asked bluntly.

She smiled sadly and shook her head. "My mom kept me from my father. After I was born, she saw how he'd used her as a brood mare. She was a smart lady. When it became apparent I had a gift, she drugged me when he came around and told him I was developmentally challenged. He went away real quick then."

Just like with me and Minnie, I thought grimly. "What do you want with Hunter?"

"I want to help him," she said simply. "I've worked with kids with challenges my whole life because of my quirk. He's my blood, and so are you. Madelyn didn't know who you were when she first met you, Sookie. She's terribly worried that you won't trust her now. It was pure coincidence, I swear it, but I'm so glad that you met her. I've been looking for a way to get to meet you and Hunter since my Mom died a few years back. I have no family anymore other than my aunt Madelyn."

I got in her head and poked around. Although she was still a little hard to read, I sensed a real sincerity in her thoughts and emotions.

We looked over to where Madelyn and Fintan were standing close together. "I guess we're cousins, and that's your uncle, you know," I said. She nodded. "Weird for you?"

"A little," she giggled. I stood up and brushed off my dress. My arm had stopped bleeding, thankfully.

"The verdict's not completely in. I wouldn't mind giving you the benefit of the doubt if it was just for me, but now that Hunter's involved, I'll be watching you closely. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Would you like to meet your grandparents?"

She closed her eyes for a minute. I reached over and squeezed her hand. "Yes," Andrea breathed. I led her over to Niall and Minnie, who had apparently kissed and made up. Niall still looked a little disheveled, an obvious lemon-curd burn crossing the lower half of his face. For some reason, that just seemed right.

"Niall, Minnie," I said, pulling Andrea forward. "I'd like you to meet someone."

"This is Andrea." Minnie's eyes cut to mine sharply.

"It's okay. We're related," I said, almost imperceptibly touching my forehead. Minnie's eyes widened. She turned back to Andrea and stared at her intently. "And she wants to help."

It had been an emotional day, and but still tears rose to my eyes as Minnie reached forward and grasped Andrea's hand. Niall, not one for displays, looked at a loss for words himself. Silently, I drifted back and left Niall and Minnie with their long-lost grandchild.

I needed to find my boss. My eyes searched the crowd for Alcide. I saw Beau and Amelia deep in conversation at a table. Bill stopped me briefly to tell me that he had checked on Catherine and taken her into the house to recuperate. She was not hurt too badly.

I finally found Alcide at the bar talking to Sam.

"I need a word," I said grabbing him by the arm.

I started in with no preamble. "Am I fired?"

"What?" he looked genuinely shocked by the question.

"Someone told me you weren't renewing my contract."

"Who?"

"Doesn't matter."

Alcide sighed. "Sookie, times are hard, construction stinks, Katrina money has run out, there's not enough stimulus in the world to put us back where we were.

"We were thinking we might have to lay you off for a while, and bring you back when things get better," here he ran his hands through his dark, curly hair.

"But we're heading in to winter. We'll try our best to keep you because you do a great job." He reached over and squeezed my arm.

"We'll let you know. Some folks who've worked for us forever are going to get cut, some offered early retirement." He ran his hands through his hair again, and I felt sorry for him.

"I'll be okay, Alcide, don't worry." I tried to rally a smile. Hey, all I had to worry about was myself, and this guy had all these folks with families depending on him. He pulled me into a hug and then wordlessly walked away. I couldn't be mad. Alcide had been very good to me. Besides, right at that second I just felt happy to be alive.

The band began a tongue-in-cheek rendition of Nina Simone's '_I Put a Spell on You'_, and Octavia grinned as she and Wizno once again took the floor. After that they danced to a cover of Jason Mraz and Colbie Collait's _'Lucky',_ which I felt also entirely apropos.

I found myself sitting at a table, alone and smiling, when a familiar feeling washed over me.

Eric sat down across from me, frowning. His hair was a glorious mess, his tie gone and shirt tattered, and blood stains covered his huge arms. He looked like a god returning from war, and I'd never wanted him more.

"You picked up another bomb," he stated without preamble.

I pressed my lips together. "Yep."

He sighed heavily. "Should I waste any time asking you why you would do anything so foolish?"

"I knew it wouldn't explode, because I'd already picked it up and set it down, unknowingly of course, earlier in the evening."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Well, that makes me feel better," he drawled. I laughed. He did not.

"I blame you," I said with a shaky grin. He quirked an eyebrow at me.

You gave me the courage to do it, when you looked at me across the ward," I said. "I knew I had to do whatever I could then."

He gave me a 'you know that I know you're full of shit' look, which I had no answer to, so I changed the subject.

"So what's happening?"

"They have Mary and the other Andromedas in the vampire tent."

"Are they going home?"

Eric shook his head. "They broke the treatise. We can do what we will with them. They will not leave this dimension again." I decided I could live without the details.

"Do you think Quinn had anything to do with it?" I asked. "I mean, he didn't come …."

"I don't think so. He didn't come because I've banned him from your property."

I looked up in surprise." I did it after the takeover, Sookie. He knew better."

"Ah." I took a deep breath. "And Rex? Was he involved?"

"We don't think so, but the investigation is continuing."

I nodded, shivering all of a sudden. I still couldn't seem to control the slight tremor of my hands, so I gripped them together firmly in my lap. The gesture was not lost on Eric, who glowered darkly for a moment before his expression lightened.

"Felipe is very impressed. He especially liked the witch's antics. Vampires don't usually traffic with witches, but he says he can appreciate a woman with such style in her work," Eric smiled. "I think he might offer her some money-making opportunities."

"Is he angry at the evening?"

"No. He's very happy with us right now. He's enjoyed his time immensely."

Speaking of the devil, de Castro approached our table, the two human girls and his guard trailing behind. Eric and I rose to our feet.

"Meez Stackhouse ..."

"Sookie," I corrected.

"I must say, Sookie, never a dull moment around you," he said with a flourish. "You and my sheriff here are very entertaining. And of course I value your Aunt Minnie highly. It has been a wonderful evening, complete with culinary delights, drama, a show! Who needs Las Vegas?" He winked dramatically.

"We found the errant fairy faction, a couple of Rex's former cohorts, and will take action accordingly. I must return to business, but I wanted to thank you for all you have done." He reached for my hand and kissed it. I felt oddly touched.

He didn't let go of my arm however, and turned it over to reveal a small trickle of blood trailing down my elbow from where I'd hurt it before. Apparently, I'd hit the wound on the table when I stood up.

Felipe smiled and leaned forward. Helplessly, I tugged at my hand, scared. His eyes never left mine as his lips approached my skin.

Suddenly Eric appeared right at my elbow. He ducked his head under Felipe's and cleaned the wound with his tongue in a nano second.

Felipe's eyes flashed angrily. Eric straightened and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Forgive me, my king," he said respectfully, his head bowed. "My beloved does not care to be sampled, and I myself cannot bear to share her. I hope you understand."

'_My beloved,_' I thought dazedly. No time to ponder on that, we were in a sticky situation. Perhaps I could venture a little levity to lighten the mood?

"I apologize as well, King Felipe, for being a poor hostess. I thought you packed your lunch," I nodded toward the girls behind him, both of whom, judging from their vacant expressions, had apparently been glamoured to the point of no return.

Felipe's eyes narrowed, then widened in understanding. "You thought I brown-bagged your party?" he said with a smirk. "And it was clearly not a BYOB—Bring Your Own Blood—affair?"

I nodded. "You did bring the chair …." I trailed off suggestively, flashing him my best dimple.

Felipe threw back his head and roared with laughter. Eric and I joined in.

"Be sure to make this one happy, my friend," Felipe squeezed Eric's shoulder as he turned away. "You don't want her to be the one who got away." He smiled sadly. "Believe me, you will regret it for the rest of your undead life." He disappeared into the night, followed by his entourage. I took a deep breath and looked to Eric, who stared at me with an unreadable expression.

"Did you just fangblock your king?" I asked. Eric snorted.

"I suppose I did," he admitted.

"Why? I mean, I don't think it would have been that terrible, as long as he didn't bite," I remembered being licked by Dr. Ludwig and Russell Edgington and shuddered. "I've been through worse."

Eric stared as his shoes. "You were unnerved by the events of the evening." he kicked at an imaginary rock on the ground, then brought his eyes, steely and resolved, up to mine. "After thwarting a bomb and saving the day, you did not deserve to be toyed with in such a manner.

"And it is true that I do not care to watch another man's mouth on you, much less stand by while he tastes your blood."

"Huh," I said, thinking instantly of the Britlingens. "I can understand that. But are you in trouble?"

He shook his head. "No, I believe you effectively diverted his ire. He may give me a few unpleasant assignments to save face, but he won't do anything too drastic. He's not perfect, but despite my earlier misgivings, I have decided that all in all, he is a good king." I had to agree with that statement.

We regarded each other for a moment before he held out his hand.

"Come, dove," Eric said. "I have something to show you."

We headed up the hill to the cabin. When we entered Eric went to the bathroom and proceeded to clean up. I watched him from the door as he took his shirt off and washed his face and arms, groaning as the warm water touched his wounds, which, despite the horrid Andromeda weapons, were healing right before my eyes. I marveled at his body, at the way he moved—and also how he always seemed so in control, how he always managed to prevail. I walked over and sat back down at the couch.

I took a moment to explain about my day with Hunter, and about Andrea. Eric listened with interest as he took a fresh shirt from the closet and donned it, buttoning it partially. He seemed particularly interested in the exchange between Andrea and I.

"How'd you get the sword?"

"Pam ran to the helicopter and retrieved it while we were waiting for the ward to open." Oh, yes, now I remembered that he'd stored it there after the Andromeda conflict.

He reached behind the sofa and pulled out a briefcase.

"What is this?"

"I've spent the last few nights drawing up a business plan for you."

"A business plan?"

"So you might consider working for yourself, as an independent consultant to the supernatural, and to humans if you so wish," he said.

I hesitated, surprised.

"Just look at it," he said gently.

I stared down at the packet in my lap and started rifling through it.

"Is this just to keep me from working for Beau?"

"Not entirely, although that was a part of my motivation.

"When you work for someone else, especially a supe, they own you, Sookie. And you aren't an eight to five girl. This will let you make your own hours, set your own rates. If you look at my profit projections, I have determined the going rate of your services." He pointed to a folder tab. I opened it and gasped at the figures.

"You will make more money than Beau offered; you will be free to pick and choose your jobs. When I started thinking about it, I realized that working for one group was self-limiting and you would ultimately set yourself up as a target; however, if you work for all groups when hired, that will protect you in itself.

"One group will not target you, because they will fear retribution from all the others; so by working for everyone, you are protected by them all. An automatic checks and balances system. I don't know why I didn't think of it before.

"You could work for me, you would work for Alcide, for Felipe, individual projects. You could employ Minnie, and now Andrea, I understand, if you want."

I nodded my head. I had to admit that of the most compelling aspects of Eric's plan would be the flexibility. I wanted to spend more time with Eric, and more time with Hunter.

It seemed like a lot of money. "Are these figures ambitious?"

"No, they are conservative. You will be well into the six figure range within the first year. I've completed need assessments and marketing analysis, and there are monies allowed for security personnel. " I watched his long fingers as he flipped confidently through the paperwork.

"What you see there is entirely representative of reality. How much you actually bottom line will be directly related to how much you work. It will be at your choice and convenience.

"However, I did figure that working steadily, with careful investments, you would be able to retire comfortably in ten years, if you choose."

He watched me closely for my response. I nodded slowly, taking it all in.

"Of course, I have been selfishly motivated. I would like you to be happy with your job and pay, and be able to take time off with me when you need to. Mostly, though, Sookie, I wanted you see that a person with your talent is beyond valuable, and not just to one person or group. "

I flipped through the pages and pages of meticulous figures, projections and charts. I realized how much time Eric put into this. I did not doubt his business acumen. He'd had centuries to hone it.

"You could work for Beau, but it would be on your terms, not his. Not at anyone's beck and call. I could be your manager, or we could hire you one. Because you are marketing talent, as it goes."

"You did this all yourself?" I asked in a small voice. He nodded. "And it didn't cost a cent," he said with no little pride. "So you cannot complain about that. Only my time is involved."

I stifled a sniffle that grew into a snort. Tears, long bottled up all evening, flowed down my cheeks.

"Sookie?" Eric watched me warily. "Sookie, it's just a business plan. Nothing is written in stone."

"You made me a present!" I all but wailed, pitching myself heedlessly into his arms. "With your own hands! You made this for me yourself!" My voice rang out embarrassingly high and emotional, and I sobbed like a foolish child into his chest. Eric furrowed his brow and rubbed my back.

"Do you not like it?" he asked tentatively. I tried to control my sobs. I just couldn't believe that he'd done this for me, it was so totally unexpected. I could see his handiwork, his painstaking efforts. Maybe he couldn't talk lovey-dovey stuff to me for hours, but this right here told me so much more.

"I do; I think it may be exactly what I need to do, and I want to look at it closer, but I'm really excited," I leaned in and kissed his cheek. "It means so much to me that you would do all that."

Eric smiled at me in a wry manner. "You surprise me sometimes with your reactions, and I am not easily surprised." He kissed me on my nose and I shrugged. Exhaustion set in suddenly. He kept rubbing my back in soothing strokes, each one a promise of fire to come.

"Can we bathe together and just go to bed?" I asked wearily.

Eric shook his head. "I have to go back down to the vampire tent and finish the fallout."

"What, no bloodlust nookie?" I joked. Although I wouldn't be entirely opposed to a little bloodlust nookie …

"There isn't time to do it properly. I'll not rush with you on this night," he murmured, pulling me into a hug. "And you and I have something else to discuss, but we can talk about it when I get finished with Felipe." I wondered what he meant as I laid my head back against his chest.

"Mean of you to wear those shoes, even if it was as a joke."

"I wore them for two reasons."

I looked up at him from under my lashes.

"And what was the second one?"

"I figured if I stood before you in these boots and asked you to be my old lady," he drew one finger down my face as I caught my breath, "and you did not run, then I would have accomplished something."

"You have a strange sense of humor, Mr. Northman," I snapped.

"I am in good company," he returned with a smug expression.

So we were back to this, I thought with a sigh. I pulled away and crossed the room to sit on the bed.

"I don't find it funny," I bit out as I untied my shoes and sulkily threw them toward the closet. I knew I was being childish, but the mere thought of him wearing those boots just to mess with my head annoyed me to no end.

Eric stood and walked to within a few feet of the bed. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door jam as he regarded me from beneath hooded eyes.

"I assure you, my dove," he said in a measured tone, "I am being perfectly serious at the present moment in time."

_**You guys know you can't kill me here so close to the finish line, right? **__**Remember that Sookie has had a very trying day, and is a bit slow on the uptake— although to be perfectly fair, our Viking could be a little more forthright, but then again, he does know how she is … thank you so much for your reviews, they thrill me to no end, and it is a special treat to hear from so many of you, newbies and some oldies I didn't realize were still following. I'm going to miss you all terribly, I can't lie. Stay with me now though, the fat lady (that's me) ain't singing yet …**_

_**Speaking of which, song links on my profile. A shout-out to simba_317, who featured this story on her website bloodbondsblog dot com for Fan Friday this week, check it out. **__**Drop me a line if you have a minute, I would so dearly love to hear your thoughts and opinions, misscyn**_

_**Death Eatin' A Cracker Chapter 54 Rough Cut ...**_

_Eric stood and walked to within a few feet of the bed. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door jam as he regarded me from beneath hooded eyes._

_"I assure you, my dove," he said in a measured tone, "I am being perfectly serious at the present moment in time."_

We stared at each other. Eric looked just a little pissed. _What_ _the hell is his problem?_ I frowned. He frowned back.

All of a sudden he snorted a laugh and shook his head. I crinkled my brow.

"You're going to be the death of me, Sookie Stackhouse," he said, still shaking his head and turning toward the door as he finished buttoning his shirt. "Of that I have no doubt."

"Where are you going?"

"I told you, back down to the reception," he said as he opened the door and stepped outside. "There are guards here. Do not go anywhere without them."

"Mmph," I said.

"I won't be long," and he shut the door.

I sat back down on the bed and contemplated what to do next. I found myself in one of those strange, wired up states, where I should just go to bed, but I had nervous energy.

I picked up the business plan and flipped back through it, once again impressed with all his efforts. A manila envelope fell out and hit the rug. I picked it up and turned it over.

'_The List'_ was written across the front in black Sharpie, in Eric's handwriting, with a note attached:

**_Sookie,_**

**_You asked me for this once_**

**_And you're going to need it if you go into business_**

**_I'm sure you'll have questions, and I'll be here to answer them_**

**_E. _**

I opened the envelope and pulled out the paperwork. I scanned it for just a second, then shoved it quickly back into the envelope. No way. Not _that _list.

_**I'm testing you here, crunchers. If you remember what list it is let me know :)**_

**3/6 I've worked through my little snit over the writer who's been making liberal use of my themes, ideas, etc. It is terribly hard to be original in this genre. I know I have been influenced by some powerfully talented writers here. It's very easy to do, and lIke I said, most of the time I turn a blind eye, because I know firsthand how hard it is to be original, and how easy to be influenced, especially when you like what someone else is doing. Plus, things are bound to overlap, we are limited by the original story, and it is fanfic, etc. So, I'm over it. Just to let you know :)**


	54. Chapter 54

**Here it is, my cracker crunchers. It's been a long and winding road, eh? I can't tell you how much fun I have had here, and how much you all mean to me. First and foremost, I owe my beta Wanda W., who I couldn't have finished this story without. Beta'ing is largely a thankless job, the author getting all the credit when much of the story wouldn't have worked without that hard-working, selfless person behind the scenes. Everyone, remember the betas. **

**I'd also like to thank the writers here, who set aside the world and pragmatic concerns to **_**create**_**, both for their own satisfaction and that of others. It is a dark world we currently find ourselves in; and you, with your betas, shed a bright and shining light on our little microcosm here, a respite and solace for the weary and worn. **

**I'd also like to thank my readers. You make this little world go around, and I'm convinced that you just don't know how important you are. Some of you have been with me since the very beginning, and new folks come along nearly every day. I appreciate each and every one of you more than I am able to express. **

**For those of you who may be concerned, I finished this chapter late last Saturday night, before the recent unpleasantness. It in no way affected anything I wrote. For those who continue to plague us here, it must be miserable to have such a poverty of your soul. As my maternal grandmother, Elsie Venable, (a fine Southern lady and queen of the snarky back-handed compliment), would say, I feel for you. (She would actually say 'Ah feeeel fah you', but you get my drift).**

**I've had support for my efforts on this tale come from some unexpected places, I've made friends, I have so many folks to thank. But I have a story to tell here first, and this ain't an Oscar speech. BTW, there's a reference to Chapter 13 at the very end, so if you want to look it up, you don't have to hunt. Meet me back at my profile later, and I'll fill you in on other stuff … misscyn **

_**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the SVM universe. They belong to Charlaine Harris. I do own my own characters, and I'd like to beat them sometimes. My apologies to Margaret Mitchell and Doris Betts.  
**_

**Chapter 54**

We stared at each other. Eric looked just a little pissed. _What_ _the hell is his problem?_ I frowned. He frowned back.

Suddenly, he snorted a laugh and shook his head. I crinkled my brow.

"You're going to be the death of me, Sookie Stackhouse," he said, still shaking his head and turning toward the door as he finished buttoning his shirt. "Of that I have no doubt."

"Where are you going?"

"I told you, back down to the reception," he opened the door and stepped outside. "There are guards here. Do not go anywhere without them."

"Mmph," I said.

"I won't be long," and he shut the door.

I sat back down on the bed and contemplated what to do next. I found myself in one of those strange, wired-up states, where I should just go to bed, but I had nervous energy.

I picked up the business plan and flipped back through it, once again impressed with all his efforts. A manila envelope fell out and hit the rug. I picked it up and turned it over.

'_**The List'**_ was written across the front in black Sharpie, In Eric's handwriting, with a note attached:

_**Sookie,**_

_**You asked me for this once.**_

_**And you're going to need it if you go into business.**_

_**I'm sure you'll have questions, and I'll be here to answer them.**_

_**E. **_

I opened the envelope and pulled out the paperwork. I scanned it for just a second, then shoved it quickly back into the envelope. No way. Not _that _list.

The list of supernaturals, the one I'd asked for the night I met Fintan for the first time. Eric had stoically refused, saying I couldn't handle it. What had changed his mind?

Something else was niggling at my subconscious, something I couldn't put a finger on. We'd both had the bond shut down during our little discussion, a quite normal thing for us when intense emotions are involved. It stood between us like a rubber wall, neither one of us giving an inch. But when he walked out that door, the wall slipped for just a second, and I caught disappointment, right before he covered it up again.

Why would Eric be disappointed? Didn't he know how much I liked his present? I ran my hand lovingly over the folders again. It had touched me so much. And he had such an incredible memory. He'd remembered I'd asked for that list, all those months ago.

And he'd remembered the boots, I thought irritably again. He'd remembered how I told him that if any man every wanted to get rid of me, all he had to do was stand in front of me in those boots and call me his old lady.

Except he did get it a little wrong; he did not call me his old lady, he asked me to be his old lady, close enough though.

I felt that niggling feeling again. Something wasn't right.

Eric asked me to be his old lady. Well, no, he said _if_ he asked me to be his old lady, and I didn't run—then he would have accomplished something—that was exactly what he said.

Eric rarely got anything wrong.

I felt the blood slowly drain from my face and I became curiously lightheaded.

_Could he have … ? Would he have … ?_

_Nah._

_Surely not. _

Except there was that disappointment thing I felt with the bond, and that flash of a forlorn look that crossed his face right as he turned away_ …_

_Holy shit. _

I became increasingly flustered as I paced the cabin. I needed to talk to Eric, right then. But I was a wreck, my hair messed up, and my feet dirty, my makeup rubbed off, and I hadn't even kissed him properly all night. In addition, I'd misread his intentions, and upbraided him when he'd planned—oh, I'd behaved terribly, I realized, with no little remorse.

I slipped out of my dress and underwear and took a quick shower. I refixed my hair in record time, hurrying like I had to catch a train. Maybe you think it was silly of me, but I didn't want to look shopworn when I found Eric and most likely made a fool out of myself. Again.

I put my clothes back on, retouched my makeup, dabbed a little perfume, swished with mouthwash and tore the door open to find Bruno grinning back at me.

"Where do you think you're going?" His eyes twinkled as he crossed his armsonhis chest. Nothing ever fazed Bruno, I have to say.

"Down to see Eric." I pushed past him. No time for bullshit.

"He said we had to follow you," he gestured to the other fairy guard standing behind him.

"Whatever," I barked over my shoulder as I booked it to the path.

"So what's got you so riled?" Bruno asked quite conversationally. I didn't answer, just kept making my way through the bramble. We'd just trimmed these weeds the other day and they'd popped back up as if possessed.

He stopped on the path and touched my arm lightly. "Sookie?"

I turned around and looked in his dark eyes, framed by the curly dark hair. Bruno had always been quite handsome, and I usually found him half-naked, to boot.

"It's gonna be okay," he said in a soft tone, and I wondered how much he'd heard of our conversation. I smiled a trifle shakily and tried to breathe.

We arrived at the bottom of the hill and I looked around; Eric was nowhere to be seen, probably in the vampire tents. The guard followed warily behind me as I headed that way.

As we approached the entrance I could see Eric and Felipe deep in conversation, Pam and Victor to the side, along with several other vamps I did not know. I stood there helplessly, feeling stupid and dangerously near tears. What was I going to say now, 'Hey, did you just propose?'

I suddenly felt conspicuous, didn't want Eric to see me. Too late, he looked up and met my eyes. I waved. He nodded and furrowed his brow. He said something to Felipe and walked over to me.

"Is something wrong?"

I twisted my hands together. "No, I, um," shit. "I just missed you."

"It's been less than thirty minutes." He sounded a little irritated.

"I know, but I didn't like the way you left."

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Can we talk?"

"I won't be much longer, Sookie but we have to finish in here." I felt like a child interrupting her father. I felt my cheeks grow pink.

"Of course, I'll just hang around the reception … ." I turned away.

He grabbed my arm and turned me around as his eyes searched mine.

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing I'm fine, I just," I flailed about, and leaned forward. "I need to talk to you—and—I just need you."

"I know," he said. A corner of his mouth lifted. "Amuse yourself, dove. We will have the rest of the night shortly."

_Smug bastard_, I thought. Then,_ yes, he's a smug bastard, and I'm the silly little bitch who's going to lose him if she's not careful. _

I wandered dejectedly back to the reception area and took a seat at one of the tables. Madelyn walked over and sat down beside me.

"Hey lady," she said. I nodded. My feelings toward Madelyn were mixed.

"I didn't know," she said simply.

I nodded again.

"I knew the story, but I didn't know it was you," she clarified, her eyes searching mine. "My sister was very closed-mouth about Andrea, for reasons that are only now becoming clear. "

She reached over and took my hand.

"Do you believe me?"

I looked up then. I'd grown so weary of distrusting. Her eyes were sincere. I could have poked in her mind, but I decided not to.

"Yes." She smiled then, a wide, genuine smile, and I returned it. We both broke in to laughter, and I felt considerably better. I had my friend back.

Fintan appeared beside us in that sudden way of his. "You girls are up to no good. If Minnie was sitting here with you I would really be concerned."

I looked at Madelyn and Fintan next to each other. They made an attractive couple. He was a very handsome man of a certain age, all blond and tan and chiseled jaw, dressed in a dark beige designer suit. And Madelyn cut a lovely figure herself, her auburn hair gleaming, and that dress I had to admire—a blush sharkskin organza, iridescent and layered, showing off her legs just so when she danced.

If they got together, then Madelyn would be my step-grandmother of sorts. I'd had no kin for so long, and now there was Hunter and Andrea, and Minnie. I felt rich with family, a new feeling for me. Speaking of which ….

My eyes searched the crowd for a familiar blond head. It didn't take long for me to find him, telling some tall tale with a drink in his hand on the other side of the bar, flanked by the ubiquitous hussies who attached themselves to him like Velcro at any social function.

"Jason!" I yelled unceremoniously across the floor. He excused himself and walked to my table. "Jason, where have you been?"

He looked somewhat abashed. "I was down at my house," he said sheepishly, "I missed it."

"There was a bomb, Jason," I said, speaking slowly as I enunciated my words. "It blew up granddad's barn. How could you have missed it?"

"Well, the explosion got my attention," he said defensively. "But you know, I met this new Were chic early in the evening, and we were um, busy."

Yuck.

"But I came out a little while ago. Hey, did you know someone called Bud Dearborn? That Pam and Thalia had to glamour him and the entire Bon Temps volunteer fire department."

"That's fabulous." I decided I would worry about all that tomorrow as I grabbed a full champagne glass from an abandoned tray and downed it in one swallow.

"Excuse me," Madelyn said. "I promised someone a dance." She left Fintan and me at the table. Jason and he regarded one another warily before Jason made an excuse and took off. Now, there was a relationship I needed to work on.

Fintan sat across from me with bright eyes. I caught my breath and looked down. I wondered if I would ever be able to shake the fact that he looked and sounded so much like my dad. Sometimes it still completely unnerved me.

"Quite an evening," he observed.

"Yes," I laughed a little.

"Adele would be proud of you for so many reasons."

"I like to think so."

"There is no doubt. You are an incredible young woman. What you did earlier tonight …. "

"We don't have to talk about it. It scares me a little when I look back."

"When you look back? How about when you were in the middle of it?"

"Oh, I was plenty scared. But you can't let fear screw you up in the heat of the moment, when something needs to be done, and there's no one else to do it. I saved the fear for later."

He quirked an eyebrow at me and I met his gaze unwaveringly. He appeared to be weighing his words.

"Are you happy with your vampire?"

"Yes."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes."

"Then what's the problem?"

"What makes you think there's a problem?"

He shrugged. "You seem unsettled. There are signs."

I sighed. "You supernaturals just don't get it. You're very intimidating, with your impossibly long lives and eternally youthful appearances, among other things."

"I must say, Sookie, I know you're smarter than that." He looked at me disapprovingly.

"Don't do what Adele and I did. That would be the ultimate disrespect to her memory."

"What about you and Madelyn? Do you see a future with her?"

"We are talking," he said with a smile. "She is human, and I am—mostly—not, it is true. But look at her Sookie, can you not see the light?"

I looked to the dance floor, where Madelyn and Beau Sinclair—good God, he was still here?—were whirling around and laughing to another catchy Cajun tune.

"Of course I can see her light. I've always seen it," I replied somewhat grumpily as I brushed off my dress.

"And Octavia with her brownie? Can you not see what a travesty it would be for them not to be together, despite the longevity issue?"

I nodded. That would be a tragic waste for both of them. Octavia and Wizno were like peas and carrots. I could hardly stand to be around Octavia's acerbic ass before. She'd been so crabby, and he'd been living filthy in a tree, hooked on grubs, when they met. They both truly brought out the best in each other.

"I thought you didn't like vampires," I muttered.

He laughed. "It wouldn't do for someone who has as much fairy blood as I to be too fond of the undead, Sookie," he said as he squeezed my hand. "But whatever anyone else says about the Viking, I know what I see."

Madelyn and Beau's dance ended and they approached our table. Fintan took her hand and smiled as they walked away, brushing my shoulder as he passed. "Be good to your Viking. He's got your back," he murmured in my ear. They headed toward the house.

I inclined my head at Beau.

"Mr. Sinclair."

"Miss Stackhouse," he sat down.

"Quite a party you've thrown here." He rolled the cuffs of his dress shirt as he spoke.

"Yes it has been an interesting evening, to say the least."

He drummed his fingers on the table. "Your vampire read me the Riot Act a few minutes ago, just before you came back down."

Leave it to Eric. "Oh really? Did he tell you I was going into business for myself?"

"Yes, well, he told me that the decision was yours to make, but I need not think I could buy you."

"Ah." Not much to say to that.

"Yes, and he reamed me out pretty good for professing a personal interest at the same time. I did not realize that you two were so … close."

He gave me a fairly disgruntled look before smiling again.

"I've been talking to your friend, Amelia. She's an interesting young woman; I have known her family for years." Hmm, Amelia and Beau? Strange combo, but she did grow up in that level of society. She's a little on the wild side, but then again he's part demon, it could work ….

Beau stood. "I should be going. I will be getting in touch with you, Sookie, as far as my business needs."

I smiled and shook his hand, then watched as he disappeared into the crowd. Something told me I'd be seeing a good deal of Mr. Sinclair.

A minute or two later, Wizno and Octavia stopped by the table, trailed by Fintan and Madelyn. I smirked inwardly as I noticed several male guests giving Octavia a wide berth as she passed.

"We're going to leave," Octavia said. "We have a private plane to catch in Shreveport in just a few hours," she caught me up, unexpectedly, in a big hug. "I wanted to thank you Sookie, for everything. It's been a wonderful evening."

"Everything back on schedule?"

"Yes, except for the fact that _someone_," here she gave Fintan a withering glance, "decided to give us a pair of wedding goats as a gift. He's over the moon about it," she pointed toward Wizno," but it presented a problem while we we're going to be away. It took us a few minutes to find a caretaker for them, but Wizno's brother is going to keep them while we're gone."

"Has he told you where yet?" Wizno had been keeping the honeymoon destination a big secret. Octavia shook her head.

"All I know is we're spending two weeks in an undisclosed location involving a beach, blue water, a hammock, and … possibly magical creatures that exist underwater," she related in a conspiratorial tone.

My eyes widened. "Mermaids?" I breathed.

She shrugged and grinned. I made a mental note to check that list when I felt like I could handle it. I'd gotten no further than 'gnomes' before I shoved it back in the envelope.

Fintan and Wizno stepped to the side and exchanged a few words. I turned back to Octavia.

"I thought you couldn't do genital transformation spells," I whispered.

"I didn't transform his genitals, I destroyed them," she whispered back, glancing furtively around. "And I'm not sure I could do it again."

"So you're not blue anymore?" I let my eyes drift downward.

Octavia leaned back. "No," she glanced quickly at Wizno. "Not robin's egg, anyway. More like midnight." She smiled mischievously. "He says he can live with it."

I giggled and so did she. I felt quite lighthearted suddenly, and looked around to see the real reason.

There he stood … _my heaven and my hell_ … the words from the song drifted back to me. He reached my side and gripped my waist gently.

"They are happy," Eric nodded toward Octavia and Wizno. I couldn't tell if it was a statement or a question.

"Like two pigs in mud," I confirmed with a smirk.

"Two pigs in mud?" he grinned just a little back at me. "I like that."

He let go of me and held out his hand. "Shall we walk?"

"Excuse me," I waved to the others.

"Best wishes, Wizno," Eric nodded at Octavia. "Remind me not to anger your wife." He showed a little fang when he spoke, which was somewhat disconcertingly terrifying. Everyone laughed a little nervously as we walked away.

Eric headed for back of the house, holding my hand lightly. I felt incredibly tense for some reason. We arrived at the garden. It looked as festive as the rest of the property, all decked out in lights, the white stone path scrubbed clean for the wedding, new cushions on the freshly painted wrought iron furniture, and blooming gardenias scenting the night. The multicolored vegetables hanging from the plants added to the fragrant and warm atmosphere.

I didn't know how to begin, so I launched into it the best way I could figure.

"I have some questions."

"You are uptight. Dance with me first," he grabbed my waist as the band began a spot-on rendition of Edwin McCain's '_I'll Be' _and pulled me onto the stone path.

"We don't have a fairy floor," I smiled up at him.

"We don't need it," he said quietly, and I was instantly reminded of the woods in that Robert Frost poem, except it was his eyes that were lovely, dark, and deep ….

I went into his arms like a piston snapping into place. The connection between us hummed, crackled, surrounded me. I knew it wasn't the bond, and not just the physical attraction either, but something deeper, more profound.

…_And rain falls angry on the tin roof  
As we lie awake in my bed  
You're my survival, you're my living proof  
My love is alive—not dead_

Eric regarded me in a bemused manner at first as I tightened my hold and stared at him, but then his expression grew more serious. I knew my heart was in my face, and I didn't care. He kissed me gently and then covered my hand with his as we moved in small circles.

_Tell me that we belong together  
Dress it up with the trappings of love  
I'll be captivated,  
I'll hang from your lips,  
Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above_

Captivated being the operative word here, I thought ruefully as I pressed to him even closer. I'd been caught up in his presence from the very first, and I found with no little surprise that I actually enjoyed that feeling. Huh.

… _I'll be better when I'm older,  
I'll be the greatest fan of your life.  
_  
We stood silent for a moment after the music ended, still moving. I could feel his lips in my hair, whispering something so low I couldn't catch it. After a moment or two we moved to the garden love seat and sat down.

"Why did you give me the list?" I asked softly, my back to his chest.

"It is time," he twirled a lock of my hair around his finger. "Did you read it?"

"I just glanced at it. I don't know if I'm quite ready."

"It will be there when you are. I wouldn't leave it lying about if I were you. It is fairly comprehensive and might alarm those who do not understand." I nodded, hesitating a bit.

"Why did you pick that Elvis Costello song for us earlier?"

He gave me an enigmatic look. "Appropriate, wouldn't you say?"

"I guess," I muttered. "Is that how you feel about me? That conflicted, that up and down?"

"To a degree, yes."

"That's terrible."

"Is it? Did I say I didn't like it?" He kissed my forehead. "At least you never bore me, dove, quite a feat, considering how many years I have spent almost hopelessly bored." His eyes twinkled as he teased me. I didn't want to be teased.

"Why do you love me?" I asked, staring at the ground.

I looked up sideways to see his reaction. He gazed blankly at me.

"Have we not covered this before?"

I shook my head. "Not really. Not enough."

"You are strong," he stated, for all the world as if that was the only answer I, or anyone else for that matter, would ever need. I lifted an eyebrow.

"Perhaps the strongest and bravest woman I have ever known," he clarified. I could tell he really thought that clinched it.

"You're gonna have to do better than that."

He blinked at me. "Ah," he said after a minute, giving me a knowing glance. "You want the pretty words."

"Yes." No need to be coy at this point.

He was silent, and I thought perhaps he'd chosen not to answer, much to my chagrin, when he spoke.

"If I had met you before the vampires came out, I would have drained you the first night I laid eyes on you."

Well, that didn't take long. "All righty, then," I said, standing up and turning to go.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me, gently but firmly, back to the seat.

"Sit," he commanded. "You asked a question, and I will answer it." Begrudging. l complied.

"I have lived many lifetimes. Long before vampires revealed themselves, I became master of the game. I'd prepared myself for any misfortune, stroke of luck, turn of fate, because I'd lived them all.

"So as you might imagine, no one was more surprised than I," here he gave me a wry smile, "when I didn't see you coming."

He turned his head, staring off into the distance, as if removing his gaze from mine might soften his words.

"Before, you would have been far too dangerous to me and the existence I had worked so many years to perfect. I would not have given you time to get under my skin. As fate would have it, I instead decided to utilize your talent. A decision, I must admit, I came to regret. "

I glared at him. "You might want to ease up on the warm and fuzzies, sweetie," I fumed. "I find myself overwhelmed." He ignored me and continued.

"You said once that when I stayed with you after Hallow's curse, I was like I'd been as a human. That's not entirely true. As I was still vampire, I would say it was a whole lot closer to the way I behaved not too long after I met my Maker." He paused and looked at my face before continuing.

"Right after I was turned I made the mistake of showing feelings toward two human women he'd provided me with for sex and food. He corrected my behavior by torturing them both slowly to death, and making me watch." Eric clenched his jaw and then nodded tightly. "He was right to reprimand me. I would have died long ago if I continued in that manner. And until you came along, I thought I had long learned that lesson." Struck silent by his words, I waited for him to continue.

"I tipped my hand when I staked Long Shadow on the second night you came to my bar. More so when I disguised myself poorly, I might add, in Jackson so I could come and keep an eye on you. I'd say it was in Jackson when I first realized how much trouble you'd put me in. I marveled at how you wouldn't betray Bill and risked your life to save his. I thought you were just a foolish, romantic human at first, and then you did it for me, and then for a convenience store clerk—a complete stranger—on the same night, after you'd been to hell and back."

"You called me your future lover that night," I elbowed him in the ribs. "Presumptuous, that."

He whipped his head toward mine. "You were meant to be my lover, only my lover. I felt it to be true even then. Not Quinn's. Not Sam's. Not Bill's." I started to snort but stopped short at his expression. I swallowed and wisely remained silent. He appeared to relax a bit, to my relief.

"However foolish or misguided your loyalties, the fact remained; I knew that a woman who could love like that, could fight like that, was a woman I could love."

"You threatened to torture me the night you came to see me before Jackson."

"I did."

"And you threatened to drain me, that night at Sam's rental house with Mickey and Tara," I bristled. "And that was after I told you what happened when you stayed at my house!"

"That was a bluff," he smirked. "Although, I admit back then I did occasionally fantasize about draining you whenever you angered or defied me."

Huh. Food for freaking thought.

"You weren't in any real danger from that point on. The rest is history."

No, he wasn't getting off that easy. "Not so fast. When you lost your memory you only told me that you could love me, not that you did, you know," I reminded him.

"Yes, but what I didn't realize until much too late, was that you were not only a woman who I could love, but one I couldn't help but love.

"I saw the writing on the wall, dear one. I denied it for a long time. But it came to a point where I could not deny it anymore.

"I tried to walk away. I ignored you for months, hoping it would fade. But I couldn't stop watching over you, trying to protect. I thought perhaps that would be enough. If I stayed away, I wouldn't have to feel. But I couldn't abandon you, couldn't leave you unguarded. I didn't think it was cruel, but it was.

"I wanted rid of it, and then I'd find myself in your presence, and all my pragmatic, rational thought went straight out the window.

"So I stayed away. Foolishly thinking I could care for you from afar. If I kept you alive and safe, I could keep my distance, and keep my emotions in check. I could have my life the old way, while protecting yours.

"The job from Alcide cemented for me the fact that others would not leave you alone. And I couldn't let you try to maneuver your way around my world blindly. You were going to be immersed in it, regardless." He shifted in his seat as if the recollection made him uncomfortable.

"Finally it became painfully apparent how foolish it was of me to think I could put you on a shelf and save you for a time when I was perhaps better prepared to deal with you.

"The fact of the matter is that you're mortal," he said with a sad smile. "You won't keep."

Ah, I could never stand to see him sad. I pressed my back against him and he gave a pleased grunt. I smiled to myself at the tiny victory.

"I didn't want to love you, but as you said with regard to your brother, I don't really have any choice. And you need me to love you, Sookie, whether you realize it now or not."

"I do realize it," I tried not to pout.

"I'm not sure that you do. You give of yourself so freely to anyone, to strangers, to supernatural beings who have lived many lifetimes, who do not, in any way, shape, form or fashion deserve for you to risk your one paltry existence for theirs.

"Yet you hold back a part of yourself from me.

"It pains me that you do it. It pains me further to admit that to you.

"I find myself continually doing stupid things to save you, just tonight committing insubordination to my king." His eyes flashed angrily, then calmed. "And yet tonight, when you hurled yourself across the floor, picked up the bomb and pitched it into the sky, even though I wanted to strangle you, I've never been so proud in my life."

"I felt like you were with me when I did it," I said in a low voice. "When I looked at you across the ward, I felt such—solidarity, such oneness with you—it's hard to explain. But it felt like we were doing it together. I don't think many people get that feeling. All I can say is, I know that we're," I gestured from his chest to mine," we're just _right_." I toyed with his fingers as I spoke.

"I can't help but worry that a future would be impossible for us. As the same time, I can't imagine being without you." He said nothing as I waited for a response, but he gave none.

"I don't know the answer," I said to our intertwined hands.

"Of course you don't. It is a hard question. But let me ask you this; if you knew the answer, what would it be?"

I wrinkled my brow. If I knew the damn answer, we wouldn't be having this discussion.

"Think about it."

"I can tell you what I want it to be. I want it to know it will all work out, period."

"Who knows that?" He drew circles tiny circles on my arm and I shivered, despite the heat.

"How do you see it panning out?"

"We are to be as one. To live together, to marry in a ceremony that you _recognize_," he gave me a look here, "to accept that this is what we are. But there are things you must accept. I am not trying to control you in order to feed my own ego, Sookie. You are a kitten in a hurricane of otherworldly forces. You need me. I have never taken advantage. But I will override you and 'boss' you and anything else I need to do to keep us both alive.

"You may view my protection as condescension, my confidence as arrogance; I will not change. I will not stop. It is necessary for our survival, for us to move forward, and I will do whatever it takes to ensure that." I looked away from his intense stare.

"I told you the other night, Eric, if this is all there is, then I'll take it."

"You'll take it? That sounds like a capitulation. I rate more than a capitulation, I do assure you." He set his shoulders and his jaw.

"That's not what I meant; I didn't mean it to sound like I was settling. I just meant that if we can never be more than we are now, I'm fine with it."

"And your misgivings about the future?"

"I've been taking it one day at a time, Eric. Things have been kinda crazy, you have to admit. As far as the future goes, I figure sometimes you gotta make like Tom Cruise in _Risky Business_," I reached up and straightened his collar. "And just say 'What the fuck'."

"I'm not sure that is an answer," he said with a slight twist of his lips. "And you know how I feel about Tom Cruise."

I laughed and leaned my head against his chest.

"Did you ask me to marry you earlier?"

"If I did, it wouldn't be the first time."

"If you're talking about that time in the car before the Witch war, and asking me to be your old lady earlier tonight, I have news for you; those were two half-assed ways to go about it, and they don't either one count."

"I have never done anything half-assed in my existence," he retorted. "I had no fear of marrying you that night, Sookie," he placed his hands on either side of my face, the blueness of his eyes nearly startling me. "Do you remember that time we projected images to each other through the bond?"

"Yes." Hard to forget that little trick.

"Clear your mind and let me show you something," he said, and then he projected an image of us in the car before the Witch war, when his memory was gone, and it left me breathless and on the edge of tears at the same time. He showed me how he saw me, and I just couldn't believe how beautiful and fearless, fragile and courageous I appeared through his eyes.

"I am not afraid of you growing older; however, I am concerned that you may very well never get the opportunity to age at the rate you're going. And I did ask you to be my old lady, in every sense of the word. Because despite any appearances to the contrary, I assure you that I am an old, old man." The very weight of the years seemed to bear down on him as he spoke. I touched the tired crease in his cheek, trying to smooth it away.

"The elephant in the room is my immortality, or your lack thereof, depending on whose perspective.

"Frankly, I don't know how much a chance of survival you're going to have without me, I have never known. The night I staked Long Shadow you would have died. But you and I need to get on the same page here, my dove. I cannot and will not continue to waste time and risk our lives with this nonsense.

"You humans with your fragile, short lives, always making decisions about how to spend them. It makes me laugh, the twenty-year-olds choosing career paths that the forty-year-olds will despise. But it's the nature due to your brevity. You are nearly thirty, but you are still young, Sookie. Why would you throw immortality away? Once you have lived with and loved a man who loves you the way I do, who can show you the universe, you may very well change your mind." He leaned forward as his tone became more intense.

"When I told you I would have drained you before we came out I was merely demonstrating what a monumental event that was. The human world evolved steadily, but very slowly until the Industrial Revolution, and then everything changed," Eric's eyes lit up with excitement and anticipation. "The vampire dynamic is evolving, and will continue to evolve at an accelerated rate, now that we are out in the open. Our nature will not change, but it still it may very well come to pass that being a vampire is a very different existence in years to come than it is now.

"And there's so much more to the universe than this world. I will take you places you cannot imagine, places that will evoke emotions in you you've only known in your wildest dreams. I will show you things, Sookie," as if on impulse he grabbed my face again in both hands.

"I opened my heart for you, my lover; now I'm asking you to open your mind for me." I swallowed and met his stare.

"Brace yourself," he whispered, locking my eyes with his.

I caught my breath as I saw another world through his eyes—a magnificent, unknown place, with strange stars and more than one moon and creatures that only exist in books, all bathed in brilliant light—my mouth dropped open as I soared as if flying over vistas and canyons, acres of water and ice and strangeness that called to me … he took his hands away and I whimpered in disappointment, wanting to go back ….

"You say you don't want to be immortal—but you need to know Sookie, what is out there, and we need to get busy. If I only have your human life to show you, we have no time to waste.

"It is not a decision that has to be made today, or next week, or next year. Why do you want to cut yourselves off from it?"

I shook my head to clear it, still dazed from my vision. I tried to focus on his question. "I don't want it hanging over me. I don't want you asking me every few weeks or so and then it becomes this issue between us, never resolved …."

"I'll not mention it unless you bring it up first. I'm not ready to shut that door. I see no need."

"Can you accept that I don't want to change, not now, not for years, if ever?"

"Yes. I fell in love with a human Sookie, not a potential vampire. The fact that you love and fight so hard in spite of your frailties, is a very large part of your charm.

"The irony of it is, either way, it doesn't matter. I want to be with you, and damn the danger. I said once that you make me feel alive, and you told me I do the same to you. I find I can't get enough of that particular feeling. The craving is like a drug, and you are my only source."

He took my chin in my hands and brought my face close to his. His eyes darkened as he gazed into mine, and I caught my breath as his voice grew raspy and low.

"And when we lay together, with nothing worldly between us; when your flesh warms mine, when your heart beats against my cold, dead chest, and yes, when your blood flows in my veins; I am lost in the absolute joy and peace of you, of us, to the point that I care not to be found."

Overcome by his words, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his cheek. He brushed my hair out of my face, and leaned back again. I sighed as the moment ended, trying to find my voice.

"There's a wild, untamed and primal part of me, one rife with blind hope," I took his hand and rubbed it against my cheek as I spoke," that says I can have this, we can have this, if we use our heads and work together."

"It would take a shift of axis, if you will, on your part Sookie. I may have forever, but I do not intend to wait for you that long."

"I'm not going anywhere," I gritted my teeth when I realized how petulant I sounded. "I'm here. I've been here. "

"You are here in body but not always in soul. You continually second-guess and hold back from me. You run and I chase. You fight what we are and I wait. I'm still waiting and chasing, but you need to know, my beloved, that as much as everything I've told you here tonight is true, one day you will run, and I will not follow."

"Master," we looked up to see Pam approaching us apprehensively. The fireman's helmet on her head belied the seriousness of her expression. "The king wishes to speak with you."

Eric stood and drew himself up to his full height. He cut such an imposing figure there in the moonlight, his sheer size, his golden hair drawn back, his sculptured features accentuated by the shadows. Light and dark, yin and yang, I thought a little dazedly.

He kissed my hand. "Tonight, my dove," he said, staring at me intently. "Are you all in or are you out? I will have an answer tonight."

I stood slack-jawed. Eric and Pam turned and moved swiftly toward the tents.

Well, hell, Mr. Turn It All Around did it again. I came down here to ask for answers and ended up getting an ultimatum, how did that happen? I kicked at the gravel disgustedly, running over the conversation in my mind. I knew the conversation to be a monumental event, a turning point; Eric had never talked that much, ever.

Something inside my brain shifted, and I started breathing faster.

Because damn it, he was right.

It wasn't all my fault. We'd been operating in survival mode for months now, bouncing from one disaster to the next. But it was true I'd never mentioned the future, because the mere thought scared the hell out of me.

I didn't know that we could have one. I settled the child issue on my own, but the aging issue, now _that_ was a hurdle I just didn't know how to jump.

And then he throws me for this humongous loop. Tells me it's my decision, but to keep my options open, because the world is going to change. To my complete surprise, I was not only okay with that thought, but invigorated by it.

What exactly did the human world have to offer me? What had it ever? My picket fence dreams were nothing more than leftover fantasies from a girl who wasn't even me anymore—a girl too scared of her heritage to leave a small town or even a bad job in a bar.

Was I holding out for something better in my mind? Better than Eric, better than a life with him?

Even without immortality, even if the supernatural world didn't change in my lifetime, I knew one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt. There wasn't any man who could be better for me than Eric. I had no choice to make.

I pictured him in all his glory earlier tonight, after I got rid of the bomb; marveled at how he saw a clear path and hurled that sword across the floor, only moments later knocking me out of the path of yet another weapon.

'_This is us. This is what we do.'_

I laughed out loud like a lunatic. I'd become nearly punch-drunk from exhaustion, but I had to tell him. If he would have me, I would fight and love, and live, by his side. Forevermore, amen.

Immortal or not, time is always of the essence.

I rounded the corner from the garden and searched the lawn, but of course he was already gone. I moved past the dance floor. The clean-up crew was disassembling the arbors and such, and had lined up the cooling fans in a row next to the dance floor, still running. I walked past the mist and became enveloped in it. I thought of my recurring childhood nightmare of Porter taking me away in the fog, and I remembered how scared I was like it had just happened. I could smell the fire burning, hear the rushing of water again, the tolling of the bell. The memory only increased my longing for my vampire. I needed to get to Eric, but eerily he seemed so far away.

I couldn't see as I left the mist and ran straight into an abandoned buss cart. Chocolate sauce and stale champagne went flying, splattering the front of my dress with dime-shaped spots.

I cursed, wiped what I could with a cloth napkin, and pushed forward. As I reached the tents I saw Eric again standing a few feet inside, flanked by Victor and Felipe. Lance and Alcide stood a few feet away, talking to each other.

As I approached the entrance someone grabbed me by the arm.

"What is your problem?" Pam hissed.

"I need Eric," I said for the second time that night. "I have to tell him something."

"What?"

"Just," I flailed about for words," just that he was right about something."

"You can't go in there like that," she grimaced. "Your dress is ruined and your makeup is running down your face." Oh, hell, the misting fans must have melted my mascara and eyeliner.

"What are they doing in there anyway?"

"Dividing up the spoils of battle," Pam showed a bit of fang. "Felipe gets all the bagged blood we drain from the ball-dropper and the other male, and Eric gets all the female's. Minus fifteen percent off the top, which goes to Victor."

I wrinkled my nose. "I am so very glad I asked."

"Go clean up and come back down. He'll be finished in a minute, and you can tell him then." She waved me away with a dismissive gesture. I turned around to go.

"And Sookie?" I looked back at her. Pam's eyes glittered with a strange determination.

"For the love of God, don't fuck it up," she clipped over her shoulder as she went back inside the tent.

I looked back down at my dress and gasped; it did look terrible. I couldn't risk embarrassing Eric in front of Felipe, not after what he'd done earlier for me tonight. I took off across the yard before anyone could see me and headed up the hill. I began to labor in my breathing as I reached the cabin and stopped short. Batanya and Clovache were waiting on the porch, looking irritated; no doubt they were trying to guard me, too. I didn't want to deal with them, I was so weary of confrontation. I did not need one other single being telling me what to do or feel, really I didn't.

I wanted away, away from the party, the wards, the fairies and vamps and everyone else, somewhere quiet and peaceful for just a few minutes, so I could calm down. I wished I was at Eric's house, curled up on the sofa, surrounded by his comforter and scent, watching Berta and her suitors swim in an ageless dance.

I craved escape. I couldn't face anyone. I headed back down the hill.

I passed the fairy ward and heard Bruno shout my name but I kept moving. I passed the path where Gran fought Porter with that cast iron skillet that still hangs in my kitchen, and my mind became a View-Master toy again, just like in the mist, all the tiny pictures flashing in my head.

I saw my dear, dear father struggling to understand the world he was a part of, too late; and my clueless mother, her head stuck hopelessly in the sand.

I saw Minnie as she jumped on Fintan's back to fly to the fae ward that fateful night with Porter—and knew she was perhaps the strongest of us all—a woman who reached within and mustered enough courage to kill her own son in order to stop his madness from hurting anyone else.

I saw my telepathic ancestors and family members, from Naomi Harvey back in Boston to now, in all their endless trials and tribulations.

As I passed the ice storm creek and the honeysuckle swing, I knew that none of these people, not one of them, had ever been fortunate enough to hold the potential for magnificence, for an absolutely incredible life, that I did in the palm of my hand.

I reached the bottom and stood in the middle of the lawn, weighing my options. I turned toward the cemetery, no, no comfort there, and then whirled toward Hummingbird Lane, the oil-stained asphalt stretching out under the moonlight.

Further down I could make out Guinevere and her fencepost, and I instantly thought of the photo Eric sent me. _I have pictures in my head_,_ too, _he'd written.

I was weary of talking to people, and I was really tired of guards; I was also overwrought and exhausted, and admittedly not operating on all cylinders. But all I could think at that moment was that if I could make it to our fencepost, I could lean against it and pet that silly cow Guinevere on her cold, wet nose, and I would somehow be okay until Eric finished his meeting. And I would be able to catch my breath, and gather my thoughts, without all this mess going on around me, and feel close to him at the same time.

Like a rabbit startled from the underbrush I sprung, dodging parked cars and departing guests, my mind and gaze fixed ahead. I struggled to breathe the humid night air, hot and heavy in my lungs. Mosquitoes started to bite my legs, but I kept moving.

Halfway there, I felt a familiar tingling in my mind.

I turned my head, still running. I saw Eric looking at me from the doorway of the tent, a deep frown creasing his bow. He saw me running and thought it was from him, oh no. I nearly fell over my ridiculous heels when they sunk in the soft earth and grass as I tried to turn back toward him; he was gone. I sobbed openly, no dignity now, and turned back toward the post, hoping to disappear into the night and lick my wounds.

I saw Guinevere's form ahead, and I stumbled forward, abject and desolate, still moving mindlessly, with getting to the cow my only goal in sight. He'd left, in disgust no doubt, thinking me a coward, avoiding my choices once again. I felt my heart break as I started trotting again, trying to put some distance between me and my pain.

I felt a breeze, a rushing of cool wind, but was it real or my imagination? I pushed forward still, stubbornly and mulishly in motion.

And oh, oh my,

Oh!

Oh praise the Lord and the heavens above!

Thank God and baby Jesus, Freya and Hlin, Eros and Aphrodite, and yes, even that cute little girl on the Sunbeam bread bag!

He's catching me!

_**Fin**_

_**We're going to pack up the best of the wedding hors d'oeuvres, grab a couple bottles of Veuve and head on up to the love shack for an after party. You all are invited. If we're lucky, maybe Bruno and the rest of the Royal fae guard will dance for us a little … after that, we'll wander over to Wizno's tree house and try to pet those freaking magical wedding goats … **_

_**And get your knickers out of a knot, I'm gonna write an epilogue if enough folks think I should, jeez … misscyn **_

**_3/21 Okay, Okay, I'll write an epilogue, dannnggg. My goal has always been satisfaction, above and beyond artistic expression, so ... you guys win. I was going to FORCE you to use your imaginations to fill in the blanks (is it really that painful? I thought it was pretty clear what's going to happen). But - you want to know who made the most compelling argument? svmfan1, who said flat-out that she couldn't trust Sookie to do the right thing and needed me to put it in black and white. I cannot argue with the beauty and truth of that statement, you all know our heroine too well :) misscyn_**


	55. Chapter 55

**A/N Okay, y'all asked for it, and here it is. As I said at the end of the last chapter, I was going to _force_ you to use your imaginations and fill in the blanks, (is it really that hard, guys? I thought it was pretty clear what was going to happen), when svmfan1 made an excellent point, and said that Sookie simply couldn't be trusted to do the right thing, and folks needed me to put it in black and white. All kidding aside, I cannot argue with the beauty and truth of that logic. **

**Wanda W. beat it to get this to you, I can't forget to thank her. And nyc, just so you know, Berta will always belong to you.**

**Satisfaction has been my goal since the beginning, even above and beyond artistic concerns. So, voila! As requested! I must admit, I enjoyed expounding upon that last scene, myself. See you at the bottom of the page … misscyn**

**Epilogue**

I felt the ground shake slightly as Eric landed. He caught me up in his arms and sobbing, I threw my arms around his neck and pressed myself into his chest.

"I wasn't running," I choked out hurriedly. "I just wanted to get to the fence and wait for you—,"

"Shh, lover, hush," he soothed into my hair. "I know you weren't running. Calm down."

I sniffed inelegantly and wiped my mascara and tears on the backs of my hands. He cocked an eyebrow and held out his sleeve. I smiled shakily, wiped off my face and leaned into his chest again.

He tilted my head back up with one hand. "And what had you so upset?"

I shrugged helplessly. "I wanted to talk to you but my dress and makeup were ruined and you're already going to get crappy assignments from Felipe, and I couldn't make you look bad by going in there looking like a nut," I gulped a little on the tears. "And I got all these crazy pictures in my head of my life and people in my family, and then I saw Guinevere and thought of that picture you sent me, and I just wanted to get down here and think about us away from all," I waved my hand around the property, "this."

"You're babbling," he said.

I hung my head. "I know."

"There's a better way to get close to me," he pressed my body against the fencepost, and I gasped as his mouth swooped down on mine. He grabbed me by my ass and lifted me up. I grasped his hips with my knees, and pulled the hard length of his body against mine. He kissed me for all I was worth, and all he was worth, and then some. He alternated between torturously slow and impatiently aggressive, soft, then hard, and I found myself wrapping my arms around the wire on either side of the posts, remembering ...

I began to feel decidedly lightheaded, and he pulled back for a second, but I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back in.

I felt a nudge against my bottom, above his hands, and ignored it. Another, and I wondered what it was, but I sure wasn't going to stop kissing Eric long enough to find out.

Suddenly that cold, wet nose brushed against my naked arm and I jumped, right before Guinevere bellowed in my ear with all her might.

"Jesus Christ," I yelped, jumping forward and nearly knocking Eric off balance. Guinevere continued to caterwaul.

"Ignore her," Eric said, nuzzling my neck and pushing me back against the post. He rained kisses down my jaw line and captured my lips again.

Guinevere started carrying on even louder, snorting and shuffling her hooves.

I smiled into Eric's lips in spite of myself. The giggles bubbled up inside, and soon I had to break away. I looked up apologetically and saw his lips twitch a bit before we were both laughing out loud.

"What the hell is her problem?" he murmured after a minute, hugging my body close to his as he shamelessly trailed his hands up and down the sides of my breasts. I shivered, despite the heat and humidity.

"I think it's cow speak for 'Get you asses off my fencepost and get a freaking room.'" I drew in closer to him, away from the demented bovine bent on tormenting us.

He chuckled lightly.

"So what did you want to tell me?"

"Just," I took a deep breath, "Just yes."

"Yes?"

I nodded.

"To what?"

"To all of it."

His eyes lit up and burned with a new intensity. I caught my breath at the beauty and strength of his gaze.

He pressed his forehead against mine, my dampness transferring to his skin. "Pigs in mud?" he asked then, just a touch of hopefulness lacing that dark, rich voice, and my insides melted all at once.

"That's pretty much the way I see it," I smiled, my own voice husky at this point.

He laughed and lifted me by the waist, twirling me in a joyous circle.

A wailing siren blared at us in appreciation as Bon Temps' only fire truck careened down the road toward the highway, all lights flashing. Eric spun me away just as it passed and I caught a glimpse of long, pale blonde hair blowing in the breeze out the driver's side window, accompanied by a happy flash of fang.

"I did not just see that," I proclaimed, my hands over my eyes. Eric chuckled again and set me down.

"Are you ready to go home?"

"Yes," I wiped my nose and smiled through my wet lashes. He took my other hand and we started down Hummingbird Lane.

Eric looked down and lifted an eyebrow at me. "Aren't you going to ask me which home we're going to?"

"Doesn't matter," I yawned, swinging his hand widely in mine. "Wherever you're going to be is where home is."

He flashed another smile and lifted me by the waist, tossing me onto his back in a deft motion. Startled momentarily, I locked my hands around his neck and my legs around his waist.

"All righty, then," he said with a smirk, and with that we took off up into the night sky.

OOOOooooOOOOooooOOO

A few weeks later, my job with the Weres did indeed end, and I found myself with some time on my hands. I decided that before I started my business, and before Eric showed me more of the supernatural world, I'd like to see Europe first. We set aside several weeks for travel and started in England, but gradually drifted north. We ended up in Norway, in a town called Tonsberg, very near where Eric was born and lived his entire human life.

Seeing him there nearly made my heart burst. I hadn't really thought that much about it, but until they came out, vampires led very constrained lives; I suppose it had always pained me to think of my vampire being limited in any way. Overseas travel being extremely difficult, Eric had not been to his homeland in literally hundreds of years, and it was like watching him with the carrots in the garden all night long the first few days we spent there.

On the third night of our visit we found ourselves in a pub, frequented by vampires and humans alike, situated just a few feet from the Tonsberg fjord. We talked and chatted and eventually found that someone knew a local priest who would do the paperwork and come out for beer, and thirty minutes later, standing on a rock facing the water, I married Eric Northman, surrounded by his countrymen, both human and undead. Although the view of the water was beyond breathtaking, my ears and hands were freezing, the wind was blowing icy salt water in my face, and it would have been a completely miserable experience except for the fact that I had never seen Eric look so happy or content. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face, and that was worth more to me than all the white dresses and bridesmaids in the world.

As a wedding present I promised him we would take a sabbatical to his homeland every year for a month or so (perhaps during the Polar Nights) if we could manage it, and you would have thought I lassoed the moon and gave it to him to keep. He immediately set about buying a place there for us. I hadn't seen him act that childlike since Dracula Night. Hell, it chokes me up now just to think about it. Sometimes I think I'm becoming addicted to seeing that man happy, and I better watch it before I spoil him, but damn if he doesn't deserve it.

Of course, when we returned to Louisiana, both Felipe and Pam were highly peeved even though we swore we never meant to elope. Felipe threw us a world-class reception in New Orleans, renting out half the French Quarter for the vampires who traveled from all four corners of the Earth. I did get to wear a fancy dress and dance with my husband and take photos, so it was a good thing. The revelry became so boisterous and over the top that it blew out the electrical transformers up and down Bourbon Street, and the event made national news. I have the newspaper cuttings to prove it.

It's been nearly a year now since the fateful night of Octavia and Wizno's wedding. My business does well. I would not have been able to do it without Eric or his plan, and I realize that. He helped me a great deal from the start and still does. I make a lot of money from supes and especially from Beau Sinclair. Boy, do people lie in the oil industry. He and Amelia have something going on, and I'm pretty sure it's for real, although she gets pink in the face when I ask. I think the girl may have met her match in that part-demon billionaire.

I've met a couple of new kinds of magical creatures, too, although I'm far from working down that list. Forget those Travelocity commercials. Gnomes are annoying little jackasses who think mortals should work for free, and that's all I have to say about that.

Speaking of which, there were no magical underwater creatures on Octavia's honeymoon, only a bunch of overfed manatees. Eric guffawed so loudly while Wizno regaled him with the look on Octavia's face when she saw the manatees were not actually mermaids, I thought they were going to high-five each other there for a minute. Real comedians, those two.

After a disastrous three months of public school kindergarten, Hunter now home schools with the brownies. He is smart, and will be an extremely talented telepath. I am very involved in his life and education. Andrea and Remy are a full-on couple now, and both seem highly committed to Hunter's future as well. Eric, of all people, supplements the history lessons, but really, who would be better?

Joe Montgomery retired to Florida, and we bought his property. We're going to build a house as soon as we can agree on house plans. Right now it's Monday through Thursday at the condo, Friday through Sunday in Bon Temps, but we always stay together.

It's not been a quiet year. I travel a lot, and sometimes, with no notice. Eric's hauled me around the country in that helicopter more than a few times, and once or twice I've flown to last-minute jobs on his back. Eric says being the owner of a bar in a strip mall is not the only thing he wants to do, and he's taken less hours at the bar to help me. He's still sheriff and heavily involved in vamp affairs, and Felipe relies on him more and more; so he's a busy vampire, still manipulating and maneuvering, but he likes it that way.

There have been some skirmishes, too, but, as always, we fought side by side and survived. We have been lucky, and yes, we are aware that our luck could change.

Jason plans to live in Gran's house when we build ours, and Remy and Andrea will rent his house, so Hunter can be closer to family**. **Yes, we are grandfathering Guinevere in, much to Wizno's delight.

I don't run, literally or figuratively, anymore.

The goats had babies this spring and Hunter loves them. Berta had a fry of fish babies, and suffice it to say, they were not blue. In some type of aquatic retribution, the tang ate half the young before we realized what was going on. Berta harbors no ill will and still stares longingly after him in his isolation tank. We plan to get him his own mate, soon.

Eric has to remind me periodically that fish, for the most part, are not people.

I got Eric a dog, a rescued harlequin Great Dane. Eric named him Starkad after some Icelandic hero, and he is as big as a horse. Eric wasn't that keen on the dog until he attacked some errant drunken FOS members outside Fangtasia and chased them for nearly three blocks one night, but ever since then he calls him 'the fierce warrior' and takes him to work with him all the time. They look right funny riding in the Corvette together, let me tell you.

That dog is so big it nearly kills me to deal with him and he barely fits in the condo to sleep. But when I stand at the kitchen window and watch Eric and Hunter and that horse of a dog strolling down Hummingbird Lane in the moonlight, Eric gesturing in the air as he explains some ancient epic battle to Hunter, I know I did the right thing when I got him.

Minnie became critically ill with the flu, of all things, this past winter. On her self-proclaimed deathbed, she called every single soul she had ever had a problem with and told them exactly how she felt about them. She speed dialed every son of a bitch, floozy, nosy old bat, trifling fool, and chronic malcontent in Renard parish, and laid into each one, hard, with some pointed home truths. Minnie ended each conversation with 'I'm dying, so there's not shit you can do about it, asshole,' right before she hung up. At that point, extremely satisfied with herself, she informed us all that she was fully prepared to meet the grim reaper.

Who, apparently, had something better to do.

Two days later, she began a miraculous recovery. Needless to say, she's been laying a little low on Bingo Night here lately. She still works for Felipe, and every once and a while for me. She and Niall are still doing whatever it is that they do, so that's something, anyway.

So when the house is built we will have a type of village, although Eric calls it a compound, here in our little corner of the world. After we decided to stay here and build he met with the town elders and showed them how to save tons of money with the water authority and other stuff, and now the mayor and all the other politicos love him to death and ask him advice (during after-hours, secretive meetings of course) on a regular basis. So vampires are really welcome in Bon Temps right now. Of course, some rednecks and backward thinkers will always muddy the water. People vote with their wallets, however, and Eric and the other vamps are improving the area, the schools, etc. I have great hope for Bon Temps.

Fintan, Madelyn, Minnie, Niall and Andrea come over twice a month on Sundays for dinner. Sometimes Eric slaps on a fairy cuff and talks to us after he rises for the night, but the telepathy annoys him as much as the fae blood, I think. He and the guys hang out down at Jason's some. Which is good for Jason, who may just be growing up. He's held a good job for a year now and has a nice Were girlfriend. Wizno and Octavia often join us. Sometimes Catherine and Bill come too, and Bill swears they are just friends, but I notice she stays over about three nights a week, so you figure it out.

Pam broke up with Lance and went back to girls for a while, but it looks like they are talking again. I've never really figured out their relationship, but I do know that Pam was miserable while they were apart, although she will never admit it.

I know Eric will not always be content with such a small-town life; and after I turn, things will speed up for us, not slow down. For now, he's said he doesn't mind living this way for a few years so I can be human with my family and Hunter, for which I will be, literally, eternally grateful.

As far as turning, I'm keeping it as a kind of unlife insurance policy for now. I really don't see it happening before Hunter graduates high school, to be honest. Andrea and Remy both work, and he needs me during the day too much. I'm thinking somewhere around forty to forty-five, as long as I am in good health. Eric said he's fine with that age, and somewhat teasingly commented that perhaps I will be 'fully matured' by then. I let it go, but he will eventually pay for that comment, I assure you.

The world hasn't changed that much yet, but I do have the feeling we are standing on the very cusp of great change. I have accepted that it will one day happen, and believe it or not, I look forward to it. It will be a different life, another kind of life; but I will be with Eric, and I know he will make it all good. He gives me hints and visions every once and a while about what's in store, and I am transported forward in time ...

In case of catastrophe, we do have all the cryo-banked Andromeda blood, which makes me breathe a little easier. Funny thing though, when Minnie and Catherine stopped taking the Andromeda blood, they did not age any more rapidly than normal. It appears that the DNA is permanently altered. Bill thinks I could just turn back time a few years with the A blood, and then have a vampire I trust change me at that point. I don't know about all that, I want to see some other folks do it first. I don't want to turn into a science project, and I'm just not that sure about messing with Mother Nature. As Eric says, she can be a persnickety bitch.

I finally told Eric if I was ever mortally wounded, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I give him permission to turn me. That seemed to mean just as much to him as anything. I really hadn't realized how much he agonized over me getting killed in some silly supe skirmish, but apparently it was a big burden on his psyche.

I wish I had given him that permission a long time ago.

He did, however, inform me quite pompously that had I been so wounded before I gave him permission, he probably would have turned me against my wishes, anyway, and dealt with the consequences as best he could, even though it would have pained him greatly. Smug bastard.

My smug bastard.

I don't know what else to tell you. We still fight sometimes, but we don't take it so seriously anymore, and we always know we're going to make up. I let him get away with being the big badass Viking vampire he is, and he cuts me some slack for being, well, for being who I am, warts and all. There may be serious and stern words heard at my house from time to time, but there's a whole lot more laughter. I may not have found uncomplicated love, but I have definitely found love, and plenty of it.

We are happy.

Just like two freaking pigs in mud.

OOOOooooOOOOoooooOOOO

**And there you have it, cracker crunchers. I will be writing a few outtakes in the next several months, the Lestat in New Orleans one we talked about, plus I'm thinking I may do one on their trip to Norway, just because Eric is so fun to write when he's being all boyish and tender. Who can ever get enough of the badass Viking vampire with a heart of gold? If you put me on author alert, then you won't miss them, I don't think.**

**But for now, I am on to another project, and my cohort Sonjita is impatiently tapping her foot as I speak. She's ahead of me, and I better get busy. We may introduce a taste tester in the Twilight fandom in the near future, I will let you know.**

**I'm going to go out on a limb here and ask anyone who may be an English aficionado, if there's some mistake I repeatedly make in my writing and it is driving you crazy, please pm me and let me know. I would like to improve, and the thought that someone knows I'm doing something wrong and won't tell me is a little depressing. Of course, if I'm doing something way right, let me know that too (yes, misscyn still loves to hear your comments, after all this time).**

**The sookieverse blog is a cool place to hang out, be sure to go there! Meads, our resident goddess, runs that place, so you know it's uber cool ….**

**www(dot)thesookieverse(dot)com**

**All right, crunchers, I best go before I get choked up. I love all y'all, you know that. Don't be a stranger, you hear? As always, take care, misscyn **

**4/7 I have completed the first outtake of the chase through New Orleans for the bidders of Support Stacie, click on my profile and look under 'my stories' and you will see it!**

**6/6 I have a request. If you are a new reader and enjoyed this story, please let me know! **

**6/21/10 Welcome, newcomers, to my little corner of the SVM Universe. I appreciate you being here. I do have one thing to say to any less than honest visitors: Please do not steal my ideas, concepts, etc. I found it slightly amusing at first, and there is such a thing as coincidence. **

** But enough is enough. You wouldn't like it if someone did it to you. **

**I don't want to have to take this story down, so please. **

**If you need some ideas, pm me and offer to pay me. I'll be glad to help you, and I work cheap.**


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